Sayonara Our Summer Solstice
by Mizu-Tenshi
Summary: The library event never happened. Hiroki never forgave Nowaki, pursuing instead a relationship with Miyagi. But the consequences of one decision affect more people than one would think. ::Miyagi/Hiroki, Nowaki/Hiroki, Miyagi/Shinobu, Usami/Misaki::
1. What the rain says

My first chaptered Junjou Romantica fic. As you can see, the summary has changed and I also corrected a few typos. This fic is rather Hiroki-centric as you can probably guess.

It takes different turn from the manga so I guess you could call it slightly AUish. Pairings are the normal canon Nowaki/Hiroki, Shinobu/Miyagi, Usami/Misaki with Miyagi/Hiroki added for flavour. I hope you enjoy it.

* * *

**What the rain says**

**- Hiroki - **

XX

"This must be what a drowned rat looks like. I bet your underwear is soaked," he says, laughing through the corner of his mouth so that his cigarette does not fall.

"It's fine," I tell him limply, but it's a lie. _It_ is not fine. _I'm_ not fine. I'm soaking, drenched to the bone and numb with cold, my clothes and hair reeking of rain water and that familiar, damp smell. It's not fine at all.

Damn, fucking Nowaki, standing me up like that and leaving me alone for hours, just waiting like an idiot! I want to curse him, but I can't. My head is swimming. It must have been the rain. Maybe I'll catch something and die.

The thought makes me want to laugh, though there's nothing really funny about it. Yet I'm feeling so wretched and pathetic right now, I'll laugh at anything.

He reaches for the ashtray to snuff out his cigarette. "What's wrong?" he asks. "Get dumped?"

There. See? Another one of Professor Miyagi's asinine comments and it sets off a smile. I chuckle, soon I'll be rolling in hysterics. What's wrong? I know you had a meeting with someone but you've come crawling back, soaking wet. Could it be? It may be impossible, but did you, perhaps…get dumped?

_Brilliant. _

"What?" I laugh. "Please don't joke, like that professor!" I hear my own voice shaking. The towel Miyagi has deposited on my head feels unnaturally heavy, but as I look up something warm and wet slides down my cheek. Rain water is not meant to be warm.

I realise that they're tears a little too late. My hand shoots up to hide them, I turn around, but it's too late. Even with my back to him, I can feel Miyagi's shocked stare burning me.

"I'm sorry! I just…It's nothing," I rush to apologise, making some lame excuse. I don't even know what I'm saying anymore. All I feel is the intense embarrassment at being caught in tears, and by my superior no less. The shame sharply stings and only adds to my further feeling of wretchedness. I'm twenty-eight years old and a man at that! The only times I'm supposed to cry are when my parents die, my house burns down, or my wife leaves me.

Well, I suppose the last one is pretty much impossible.

How pathetic. How completely and utterly stupid. I'm so pathetic, getting all upset about being abandoned and then crying about it. I don't want to think about Nowaki or what he could possibly be doing right now, or why he did not arrive. Go away! Go away stupid thoughts and stop tormenting me! I'm not a girl. I don't want to think about the last time I saw him, or the last time he kissed me, or the last time he held me.

Upon that last thought, a pair of arms wrap around me. They're not Nowaki's. I feel a little bitter that my first thought was; 'it's not Nowaki' and not 'who the hell is this bastard touching me?' Those arms surround me and pull me against a hard chest. I freeze upon contact. There's a hand against my head and another on my waist; large, warm hands that I imagine are probably a little rough and probably calloused.

"Kamijou," Miyagi's voice is near my ear, his breath smells of cigarette smoke. Oh God, my heart skips a beat and I tense up even more. "You know," he speaks in a low voice, totally bereft of humour. Was his voice this deep before? "You're so occupied with your impenetrable armour that you don't realise it's full of holes."

I'm not comfortable with such a close proximity. His arms are around me, leaving me no room to squirm, his face is too close to mine. I wish he would back away a little, I don't want him to hear my heart pounding or feel the heat rushing to my cheeks. What does he think he's doing anyway? I don't know whether I should try to break free or not. I don't know if I should move. I think I might be trembling.

"Professor, please let go," I tell him.

He refuses. Bluntly. I feel his fingers brush over my skin, a strong grip wrapping around my wrist. Before I can move, I'm whipped around. A hand on my chin, tilting it up, I can see his face clearly as he moves closer, his lips part, mouth widens and so do my eyes.

A momentary thought about Nowaki passes through my head briefly before all thoughts suddenly become occupied with the lips pressed against mine and the man who is kissing me at this very moment.

Those limbs that were frozen suddenly snap into motion. I push him back and stumble against the wall myself, struggling for breath. Now my head is _really _swimming. What the hell did he do that for? Was it some sort of comfort kiss? Don't pity me, dammit! Don't make me feel worse than I already do!

"Wh - what the hell was that?" I ask him, bewildered, but Miyagi simply steps forward.

"Kamijou," he stops just in front of me. His eyes are dead serious and he's not smiling. Although I don't want to admit it, it's putting me on edge. His hand reaches for my wrist again and I flinch but he catches me anyway.

"P - Professor Miyagi! What do you think you're doing!" I try sounding cross but it's a piss poor attempt and he probably sees through it anyway.

"Kamijou, you were crying because of that guy, right?" My flinch proves him right. "Honestly, I can't leave you alone. It's okay, don't worry. I'll help you get over it."

I open my mouth to protest but it's swiftly occupied by Miyagi again. I tell myself to stop but my hands are clinging to his shirt and refusing to let go. I can feel his hands through my hair, his lips against mine, I feel his tongue flick against the roof of my mouth and his body pressed against mine, I feel my own hand against the side of his face and Miyagi's warm skin. I feel, and everything becomes a blur of sensations. I don't think I can see. I hear a faint moan and realise it's me but at this point I'm beyond being embarrassed about it.

Enough already. I fling myself over the edge, into the sea where every touch and sound is a bombardment. I don't really want to feel anything anymore but I suppose feeling too much is the next best thing, so I let Miyagi kiss me and touch me and press his body against mine. My fingers slip away and my hands fall to my side as he pulls away, smiling faintly.

Then it occurs to me that we may have had a spectator.

The hazy delirium I was in shuts me out abruptly, leaving a cold and bitter sensation. Nowaki stands there, bewildered, betrayed, unable to move. A chill runs through me.

At last he opens his mouth to speak, but his voice comes out as a croak. "H - Hiro-san?" he barely manages my name. He has to pause and swallow before he can go on. Was it that much of a shock? No more than when I found out he had disappeared to America without telling me. "Hiro-san," he says, "what are you…why are you…what…"

Nowaki is shaking. I realise that both anger and hurt are the reason. I look away guiltily then berate myself for feeling guilty. He was the one who up and left me without a word! He was the one who stayed away for a whole year without contacting me! He was the one who left me to get soaked in the rain!

As if he can read my thoughts, Nowaki snaps out of his reverie. He can speak fluently now. I glance at Miyagi, who is standing there silently, through the corner of my eye, and he catches on to this.

"Hiro-san! What were you doing? Are you going out with that man?" he looks angry, though more at himself than at me. I can't imagine why. I was the one making out with my boss, not him.

He strides forward and grabs my wrist.

Then I snap too. I've had enough of the wrist-grabbing.

I snatch my hand back but since I'm backed against the wall, I can only edge away to the side. Closer to Miyagi.

Nowaki glowers at him. He looks murderous. I've never seen him like this. In fact, I've never seen him really angry before either. "Hiro-san!" he demands.

God, my head is hurting! I just want it to stop. I want all of these people to go away. I want all the noises to end, the sound of the rain, the sound of Nowaki's laboured breath - he must have run here - the sound of my own heart beating against my chest.

"What?" I snap at him. I tell myself that I won't forgive him for standing me up. He was the one who left me, and yet he looks at me as if _I've _betrayed him. "What the hell do you want? I broke up with you already and yet you call me out just to leave me in the rain for hours and then come charging in here like a brat! You go off to America without a word and then suddenly appear as if nothing's happened!"

He has the decency to look guilty at first but at the mention of America he cries; "I told you about America!"

"Yeah right! As if I wouldn't remember something as important as that! You never said a word to me!" I snap back. Miyagi just stands there, watching with a frown.

This is why I don't have to worry about Miyagi. He's an adult. He knows when not to get involved, when not to cross the line. He knows when it would be best to leave someone alone. Unlike someone. Unlike someone who suddenly came charging into my world, leaving it just as suddenly.

"I did!" Nowaki insists. Perhaps it's the light, maybe it's because I can't think straight but he looks almost desperate.

"I don't remember a thing!" I snort

"You just forgot!"

I bristle. Don't screw with me! Don't try to pin the blame on me! This is your fault, Nowaki. You were the one who left _me_! Do you have any idea how worried I was? How hurt I was? You don't have a clue, do you? You don't get it at all!

Except I can't say all of those things. It's too embarrassing, it's too close to home, it's too truthful, so instead I scream "Liar!" at him and charge off.

"Hiro-san!" he cries one last, desperate time. I feel his fingers against my hand but he misses my wrist and I manage to escape capture. Throwing myself into the corridor, I burst into a run but Nowaki's cries echo down the deserted hall, haunting me no matter how hard I try to escape them. The sound of his voice, so strong and distressed, edged with hurt, chasing after me even as I leave the university.

Goodbye, Nowaki. I don't ever want to see you again. I can't handle seeing you again.

As the rain continues, I'm pretty sure I'm crying but my skin feels stiff and cold that maybe the rain just seems warm against it.

* * *

Thanks for reading. Comments and crit are greatly appreciated. (Which summary was better I wonder?)


	2. While the sky darkens

An update! First of all, a big thank you to all those who reviewed. About Nowaki/Hiroki...don't worry we haven't seen the last of Nowaki.

* * *

**While the sky darkens **

**- Hiroki - **

XX

I wonder, what's the ideal way for a relationship to end? Should it go out with a bang, shouting and screaming at each other, or should it just fade away quietly without anyone ever realising? Maybe with firecrackers. And a musical accompaniment. What does the end of a relationship sound like? Like the last fireworks trailing through the sky? Maybe the sound of broken china.

I think, maybe, Satie's Gymnopedie or something like that, steadily plodding along on its lonely way. Or Chopin's Raindrop Prelude maybe. Light hearted and melancholic, growing darker, growing lighter, then fading away.

I don't know. I'm a literature professor, not some damn music teacher! I imagine it would be something on the piano though. Just the piano. Some stupid guy in a white suit in a lonely room, a spotlight blaring down at him whilst he plays and plays the same song over and over again, fingers tapping on the ivory keys. One for every day of his life. One for every stupid mistake.

I feel like a dead person that has been dragged up from the grave and forced to work in a stupid university full of stupid know-nothing kids. I showered last night but I was too tired to wait to dry off yesterday, maybe that's why my head is still spinning.

I rub my forehead and swallow my coffee in gulps. I avoid the pain killers. Pain killers are for little girls, and besides I think I'll probably be drinking soon so that I can forget about all that confusing stuff as soon as possible.

I let the lukewarm coffee slide down my throat whilst I try to concentrate on marking these damn papers. The youth of today are so stupid. That's another red cross for Takahashi and, since I'm in a bad mood, I make it extra large.

"Ka-mi-jou! What's wrong? Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?"

I start when I hear Miyagi's voice. Though I am grateful that he's attempting to give my life some semblance of normalcy, is a simple 'good morning' too much to ask?

"Professor Miyagi!" I refuse to look at him even though I can feel him standing behind me. "If you have time to pester me, please go to your next class!"

It's impossible to wake up on the wrong side of the bed anyway. The right side _would _be Nowaki's side, but since he's not here anymore both sides are mine. The thought is unpleasant. I don't need to be thinking about stuff like this when I'm trying to work so I promptly shut out it out of my head.

"Ah! The affections of youth are ever fickle!" he sighs dramatically and comes round to lean a hand against my desk.

I have no idea whether he's talking about me or the students in his class but I take offence anyway.

Miyagi throws his hands up. They fall back down, as if he has nothing to do with their direction, right around my shoulders. "Ah, don't be so cold Kamijou! Not after our little _mouth to mouth_!" he whispers. Is he _trying_ to piss me off?

I had hoped to forget about _that. _I grimace with annoyance and try to throw him off but suddenly he's all serious again and his breath is tickling my ear.

"Seriously though," his voice takes on a low quality. "Do you need to talk? You can come round my place and drink off some of that load you're carrying if you want to."

Miyagi's unexpectedly astute. For someone who acts like an idiot most of the time. I think about accepting the invitation but I also feel like being alone.

"Maybe," I promise to think about it.

"Don't take everything on yourself."

"I'm okay. You don't have to worry about me," I finally shake him off.

Miyagi sighs. "Don't you get it? It's _because _you say things like that, that I worry about you."

I don't really know what to say so I just shrug and mutter; "I'm okay," which only makes Miyagi sigh even louder. It pisses me off a bit. Honestly, what does he _want_ me to say? 'Please comfort me, professor'? 'Please hold me until I'm feeling better'? As if I would. I have my pride. I probably would not even say those kind of things to Nowaki. Probably.

There I go again. Poking at my own wounds. It stings and it's burning, deep enough to leave a scar. That's no good. If I keep thinking about the past, if I scar, I won't be able to forget about him, even though I'm resolved to do so, I won't be able to move on.

So I sit and reminisce.

Miyagi's class can't wait any longer so he leaves me alone. As the door shuts I throw my pen aside. It frsutrates me that my personal life is interfering with my work, I was never this unprofessional. Damn Nowaki. I wonder if he's tried to contact me. Of course, he doesn't know my new address or my phone number but he could always show up at the university again. I don't know whether I'm hoping or dreading it.

I wonder where he went after that night, or what he's doing now. Probably studying. Doctors are busy people, far too busy to keep a single promise to me. _I__'__m_ not that important after all.

Gradually, I'm turning into a bitter old man.

XX

As the day dwindles, I've been feeling worse and worse, my head is _pounding _right now. I just want to go home and sleep. As I leave the university it's almost dark and the students have all left. Summer is over so the days are much shorter now.

"Kamijou!" Miyagi hails me from the parking lot. I walk over to him out of curiosity. He's got several plastic shopping bags with him, heavily loaded by the looks of it.

"What's this?"

"Don't you remember?" he smiles, lifting a shopping bag full of beer to my face. "You said you'd drink with me."

If I recall correctly, I said I would _think _about it, but whatever, it's not like there's anything better to do so I concede. He shows me to his car and I get in next to him. I've never been in his car before so this is first for me.

Time passes whilst we make small talk, though I'm not really interested in what he has to say so I just make vague replies. It occurs to me that I'm probably being rude even though he is the one going out of his way to make me feel better. I'll make it up to him tomorrow.

Miyagi's place is unexpectedly tidy for a single man, unlike my place, which is stacked so full of books and paper that every step is like walking through a mine field. He leads me to the main room but we sit on the floor instead of the couch and he unpacks the drinks.

"Here, don't hold back," he hands me a beer. There's no need to tell me that. In a few long gulps, I'm finished and he hands me another, whistling.

"Aren't you going to drink?"

"Of course. There's no fun getting drunk alone," he takes out a beer for himself, sipping it with much more restraint than me.

God, how did my life end up like this? When I was in high school, my two greatest ambitions were to get into a good university and to win Akihiko's heart. I would become a professor or a publisher, something to do with books anyway, buy a modest apartment in Tokyo, go out for drinks with old college buddies every Friday night, spend the weekends pestering Akihiko, and grumble about the boss with my co-workers. There was no Nowaki in this equation. He did not fit into my orderly, logical world, yet I'm willing to throw everything aside just so that he can have a place in it. Everything.

Well, it's over now. There's no use dwelling on it. It's over. Over, as in finished. Over, as in the end. Never happening again.

"Look at you, you're a mess," Miyagi murmurs.

"Shut up!" I snap away from my thoughts. "I don't wanna hear something like that from Mr Irresponsible head of literature!" I think I might be just slightly drunk, but if I realise I'm drunk then I must be sober.

Miyagi instantly goes into teasing-mode. "Abusing your superior! I should have you demoted," he pokes a finger at my cheek, persisting even though I keep batting him away.

"Then I'd sue you for sexual harassment! Or have you forgotten about that time you kissed me?" I retort.

"About that guy," Miyagi sighs and lowers his beer. I grow pensive at the mention of Nowaki. "You've broken up with him, right?" he asks.

"And I never want to see him again!" I snap. It feels like a lie. All I can do is lie really.

"Well! Drink up, drink up! Alcohol was made for times like this!" he heartily pats me on the back and I almost spit out the stuff in my mouth.

I take a long gulp of my beer. "Damn Nowaki!" I feel like flailing around. "Damn it, damn him! Making me feel like this! Damn, stupid brat!"

I'm restless. Too much pent up frustration. If I don't use up this energy, it might come out in tears, and I refuse to cry in front of someone twice! So I opt for anger instead of sadness; it makes you feel much better.

"You're one hell of a drunk," Miyagi mumbles into his drink but I hear him anyway and I lean over to take a pathetic, mock swing at him.

Except my fist does not connect but the world is wavering. The next thing I know, my head is spinning…and apparently I'm on top of Miyagi. My breath hitches but I don't move. Should I laugh and back down? Only, I don't think I can move right now. Please don't stare at me like that professor, it's making me nervous.

We remain silent, shocked, then Miyagi raises a hand to cup the side of my face and slowly guides me down to his lips. I don't protest, though I'm not really sure why.

"Kamijou, why don't you forget about that guy?" I hear him whisper. I wish he wouldn't switch into serious-mode so suddenly. As if you can suddenly fall out of love that fast. I wish I could forget.

I groan and try to move but he holds me there. Oh no, wait, he's not holding me, I just _can__'__t_ move right now.

God, this sucks. Of all people, I'm being kissed by stupid Miyagi, but I can neither bring myself to make him stop nor blame it on the drink. And I'm annoyed because I sort of like it. I like his kisses, I like the way his hands swiftly unbutton my shirt, then run down my chest. Warm hands. Nowaki had warm hands. I was right; they are a little rough.

Danger bells ring in my head. I don't want to unload all my problems on Miyagi, I don't want to use him just to make myself feel better, but what can I do? _He's_ the one kissing _me._

Miyagi looks at me sternly. "He hurt you, didn't he? You should just forget about a guy like that."

And be with him? He doesn't say that, but I guess that's what he means. I don't say anything to him. I want to forget about Nowaki as soon as possible and smother myself in whatever I can so I don't have to think about him, so I don't have to remember him at all. Wrap myself in a blanket of cotton wool, childishly fluffy, thick and pure white like snow so nothing can touch me anymore.

Miyagi looks at me patiently. He doesn't say 'I'll love you for the rest of my life' or 'I'll be with you forever.' We know that those sorts of statements are romantic garbage meant to woo naïve teenage girls. We're adults, we know better than to get involved in something so uncertain.

So he does not make promises he knows he can't keep. He doesn't ask me how I feel, he doesn't even ask the oh so important question; 'Do you still love him?' He just kisses me again.

Yet because he doesn't say those kinds of things, because he knows what to ask and when not to probe into my life, I think it's okay. A relationship where people know when to not get too involved in the other is the best.

That's why, when he kisses me, I kiss him back.

* * *

And so, the Miyagi/Hiroki relationship blooms.

In the next chapter: An appearance from Nowaki, and Shinobu barges in.


	3. As the clouds gather

* * *

**As the clouds gather**

**- Hiroki - **

XX

Even though it's been days, I keep expecting Nowaki to show up. Because of this I keep walking around the university on tip-toe, poking my head around the corner before proceeding. It must make a strange sight, the students probably think Kamijou the devil has finally lost it.

I'm not mad though. I probably was when Nowaki was around, how else would one explain all the embarrassing things I did? Going to see him in secret at the flower shop, sending him roses, taking baths together, letting him touch me the way he did.

The world of the sane is so boring.

But it's not as if any of that matters anymore. I haven't seen or heard from Nowaki since that day. I suppose that's the extent of how much he cares. He couldn't have been all that interested in me after all if he's not railing at the university walls to speak to me again. The thought leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. Maybe it's just the coffee.

"Kamijou! Joining me again tonight?" Miyagi smiles as I enter the office with all the material he requested.

Nowadays, I've been spending a lot of time around Miyagi's place so I have an overnight bag there all the time. We don't always drink, but three out of five times our evenings usually include alcohol so we always stay around his place. With those stacks of books, my apartment is a health hazard when drunk.

"Maybe," I shrug and place the heavy pile by his desk. "I don't really feel like having alcohol though."

"I'll cook something then," he offers. It's always the same staple meal of fish, rice and vegetables with miso soup. Well, I suppose that's all a single guy needs to survive.

Single? Should I be considering Miyagi single anymore? I don't know if you could call us 'together.' I don't really know what we are. We're definitely not just co-workers anymore but I wouldn't call us lovers either. We're just…something.

"Ah, this is no good!" Miyagi suddenly cries. I peer over his shoulder to see him marking some student papers with big red crosses.

"I wish students would proof read what they write before submitting it!" I agree. I can think of at least five students off the top of my head who seem to fail at basic spelling and grammar. Although I admit, in my days of reckless youth, I have been guilty of not proofreading my work too.

Miyagi spins around on his chair, beaming. "Oh, I do love your passion for literature!"

I feel his arms around me and reflexively freeze for a moment before relaxing and leaning into his touch. It's strange that what would have once been harmless teasing suddenly feels very serious to me.

"Professor Miyagi! You do realise we're at work here, right?" I manage to grumble. My heart is racing.

"Doesn't that turn you on?" he grins.

I blush because he has hit the mark on its head. Am I turning into some sort of…pervert?

Maybe I am since I turn around to face him and inch my face closer to his. Our lips brush for a brief moment. It makes my stomach tingle. Then our lips are crushed against the other and my stomach is not tingling anymore but I feel light-headed instead. I must have a fixation on hands because all I can think about are Miyagi's strong hands holding on to me. If they weren't so rough, his hands would be just like Nowaki's. What would he say if I told him that?

I know I would never seriously ask him such embarrassing things, but I don't have a chance even if I wanted to as the phone rings, breaking us apart.

"Hello?" Miyagi picks it up. I go back to my desk, listening curiously. "Oh really? Yes, okay. Alright, we'll be there right away."

The use of the word 'we' catches my attention. I think that's what we are. Since we're not just co-workers, or just friends, or lovers, or sex-buddies, or acquaintances, we're a 'We.' Casually together…but not really.

Miyagi puts down the phone and turns to me, frowning. "Sorry Kamijou but could you accompany me? That shipment came in and I'll need some help carrying it to the car."

Suddenly, we're back in work mode. But I don't mind. I like it like this. This is what being in an adult relationship is all about; being able to switch from personal to public without blurring the two, keeping your head above all the messy emotional stuff.

So, once again, I'm in Miyagi's car. I should probably add notches for the amount of times I've ridden in it now but I doubt he would appreciate me scratching up his car. In twenty minutes, we're already at the bookstore. I stand back a little whilst Miyagi deals with signing the papers and all the other little details that only the head of department needs to fret about.

"Is this all of it?" Miyagi asks as the shop clerk struggles with several boxes of books. They're new textbooks for our classes, maybe with them the students will actually get a little smarter.

The clerk pants as he almost drops another box on the floor. "Ah, there's just a few more boxes. The new guy's fetching them from the storage room," he sighs and wipes his brow, pushing back his thinning hair.

The new employee _finally_ arrives from the storage room. Even though he's insanely tall, the stack of three boxes piled in his hands block his face. I'm sure that's dangerous.

"Kobayashi-san!" he speaks breathlessly as he carefully bends down to deposit the boxes on the floor. "Sorry it took so long. Is this every…thing…"

I'm not sure who is more shocked at the moment.

"N - Nowaki!" I manage to get my voice out first.

"Hiro-san!" Nowaki follows suit. That voice makes me flinch, it cuts through me like a knife. He's looking at me imploringly and I fidget nervously but we're both at work so he can't do anything.

Ah, this is familiar. I've lived through days like this before, days where the atmosphere is restless and the air so thick you can't breathe.

Just as I think the tension is going to strangle me, Miyagi suddenly comes to my rescue by stepping between us. Nowaki glowers at him so intensely that even I am surprised. He's usually so mellow that I forget that, combined with his height and build, that look can be really intimidating.

Miyagi, however, is completely unfazed. He takes it all in his stride, turning to address me as if Nowaki does not even exist. I notice him growling at this. Is he jealous? I don't have time to entertain such stupid fantasies.

"Here, I'll take these," Miyagi lifts a pile of boxes. He's about as strong as Nowaki. "Kamijou, help me with the last couple, will you?"

"S - sure," I reach for a box. Any will do, I just want to get away from this place.

"Hiro-san!" Nowaki follows me to Miyagi's car, ignoring his superior who asks him what he's doing. I hope he doesn't get fired over this. Then again, what do I care what happens to him? He should not even be in my life anymore.

"I'm working right now, Nowaki," I try to speak patiently but I'm sure my voice is shaking. I wasn't prepared for this. I don't know what to say. I don't meet his eyes. If I look at him my defences might crumble, he might see too much in me, he might realise that I still miss him. That's wrong, isn't it? I shouldn't be feeling like this anymore.

I don't want him to look at me. If he does, I don't think my pride could handle a blow like that.

I want him to go away. Please, go away. It hurts. Please, just go away.

It hurts.

I deposit the box in the back of the trunk and fetch the last one. Nowaki follows me back and forth like a lost puppy, working up the courage to speak. I pray that he doesn't. I pray that my heart will stop pounding but it's no good. He finally speaks and my heart begins racing. There are butterflies in my stomach, flitting about so restlessly, I think I might be sick.

"Wait, Hiro-san! Give me a chance to explain everything!" he pleads.

That's not fair, Nowaki. That's hitting below the belt. How does he expect me to say anything when he looks at me with those I eyes? How can I keep my pride when he speaks with such an imploring tone? He's not leaving me a place to stand. I can't take it. I feel like I'll crumble into dust just standing here. I want to get away.

"I'm working right now!" I work up the energy to snap, seeing Nowaki has drained most of it away. Still, I admirably put up a front of annoyance and glare at him. "Listen! Don't get in the way of my work!" I yell at him and he flinches. My own chest stings in response but at least I have created the best time to run away. Turning to Miyagi, I get into his car and tell him to drive.

Silently, he turns on the engine and pulls out. I don't look back. I can see his figure in the rear view mirror, staring at me with those eyes.

I'm so damn weak. All it takes is a glimpse of his face for my whole world to come undone.

"Kamijou - "

Miyagi places a hand on my shoulder.

"It's nothing," I murmur but I don't look at him. I feel his eyes on me and his hand burning through my shirt and into my skin. Why do they both burn? When we slept together, Nowaki's touch sometimes felt as if it was burning too. They say people with very warm hands are dreamers and people with cold hands are actually kind. My hands are always only a little warm. Never one or the other.

I know Miyagi's frowning. I know he's looking at me but I keep my head bowed and stare at his car radio, waiting for him to say something. If it was Nowaki, he would rail at me until I finally confessed all my worries.

Yet he doesn't speak. He knows that I don't want to answer any questions, knows that I want to be alone so that's what he does. He respects my wishes and leaves me be. I feel his hand sliding off of my shoulder and, even though there is so little space between myself and Miyagi, it feels unbearably lonely.

XX

"Oh, Professor Miyagi, the director wanted to see you," one of the other teachers say as we pull in to the university. I get out of the car feeling like crap.

"I'll be there right away," Miyagi nods promptly. He looks at me but doesn't say a word. I _really_ feel like crap.

Since I have to give some forms to the director anyway I accompany him to the office. It's always so much larger and luxurious compared to our tiny literature office. Well, the literature office isn't that small but all the book and papers make it seem so, and it's always a mess. We can never find the things we need.

As we both enter the director's office, I'm surprised to see a student there. No, correction, he's wearing the uniform of some private school so he can't be a university student just yet. The kid frowns at me. Brats are so unfriendly these days.

His eyes are odd for a Japanese kid; they're a little blue, and his hair is really light but it doesn't look as though he dyed it. He looks grumpy as he stands against the director's bookshelf, arms crossed stubbornly over his chest, cutting himself off from any others. He brightens a little when he sees Miyagi though. My final verdict - Weird kid.

"Oh, Miyagi. Kamijou too," the director looks a little shocked to see me. Jeez, no one really wants to see me today, do they?

"You called me, sir?" Miyagi gets straight to business.

"Yes…err," the director coughs, his eyes flicker towards me. I get the impression.

"Please don't mind me, I have a class in a minute. I just have some forms for you," I quickly hand them to the director, who nods gratefully, and I make my dignified exit.

As I pass, I hear Miyagi hiss; "Give 'em hell!" I just roll my eyes.

Yet before I leave, I hear the director speaking to Miyagi. He seems nervous when he says; "This is…an odd request I know. First of all, I want to reintroduce my son You remember him, right? This is Shinobu."

Then I shut the door.

* * *

Poor Hiroki doesn't know what he's getting himself into. Oh well, in the next chapter we'll be seeing what Misaki has been getting up to all this time.


	4. Overcastting the sun

It's embarrassing to say this but I actually forgot I had to update! So, a big thank you to my reviewers, I would have completely forgotten otherwise!

* * *

**Overcastting the sun**

**- Misaki - **

XX

Jeez, Usagi-san is such a weirdo! I don't understand him at all. He hates social events and having to meet with his publishers but here we are driving across Tokyo to return some books.

Well, I suppose it's different if it's for a friend.

But does that friend have to be Kamijou the devil? _My_ literature professor? The guy who throws chalk at me and tries to torment me at every possible occasion? Why do they even now each other? _How?_

Apparently, Professor Kamijou's not been feeling too well lately so I've got to help Usagi-san bring the huge stack of reference books he borrowed to Professor Kamijou's place. I guess this visit is also partly because Usagi-san is worried. It's amazing that he actually goes out on a limb to help others, I never would have believed it.

What am I saying? Usagi-san is actually very kind…in a weird sort of way.

I have to admit though, I never noticed Kamijou-sensei looking unwell. True, he spends a lot more time in the literature office, but why shouldn't he? He is a literature professor after all.

When I voiced my thoughts to Usagi-san he just shrugged and said; "maybe it's not _that _kind of 'unwell.'"

What the hell is that supposed to mean? Oh well, I'll just drop these off and leave. Maybe Kamijou-sensei will look at my papers a little bit more favourably if I do.

Now I wish I didn't drink so much before leaving. How long will it be before we reach Kamijou-sensei's place? It's embarrassing, but I sort of, you know, need to go.

My fidgeting catches Usagi-san's attention. He asks me what's wrong but I lie and tell him it's nothing. It would be too embarrassing to tell him the truth.

My resistance can't hold out for much longer. Finally, I can't stand it anymore. "Um, Usagi-san," I gather the courage to speak. My cheeks are hot. I feel like a little kid. "Do you mind? Could we pull over here for a minute? I think I had too much to drink this morning."

Usagi-san looks surprised, then he smiles but he doesn't laugh. He pulls over and turns off the engine outside a small coffee shop. I think he can probably tell that I'm embarrassed and is sparing my feelings.

"Here you are. Need me to go with you?"

Or not.

"I'm not a kid!" I yell, slamming the door for effect. We're in a familiar district, I used to walk this way sometimes. I recognise the flower shop opposite and the small coffee shop, which I hurry into.

Several minutes later, I'm hurrying back out of the coffee shop. I don't want to keep Usagi-san waiting. I'm in such a hurry, I don't notice the man coming my way - an insult to my eyesight since that man is _huge _compared to me!

"Ah, I'm sorry!" I quickly apologise the moment I bump into him. Luckily, he manages to save his coffee from spilling.

"No, it's my fault. I'm sorry," he apologises. I look up. I mean, I have to _really _look up because he's so tall, he must be at least six foot.

The moment our eyes meet, we recognise each other at the same time.

"Oh, you work in that flower shop across the road, don't you?" I say without really thinking. I've seen him sometimes whenever I'm out with Sumi-sempai and I have occasionally bought the odd bunch from him every now and then.

The man smiles. His voice is surprisingly gentle considering his size; I was expecting him to be rougher but he has this calm air about him that seems quite relaxing. "Yes, I remember you too. You sometimes come in to buy flowers," he smiles again. It's hard to be nervous around such a serene person.

"Only cheap ones though. I can't afford the expensive bouquets," I laugh apologetically. The bunches I buy are pathetic compared to the big, expensive arrangements I see the other workers making.

The man chuckles a little. He looks a little pale though. "It's okay. Are they for your girlfriend?" he asks.

"G - girlfriend?" I stutter. Usagi-san wouldn't really be considered my girlfriend, would he? In fact, although I hate to admit it, most people would probably see meas _his _girlfriend. But I realise that the guy is waiting for an answer so I quickly avert my eyes to the floor, force a smile and manage to stutter; "A - ah, no! They're just for decoration. I think a vase of flowers can brighten any home really."

Does that sound lame? Guys shouldn't really be talking about flowers like that. I feel unnaturally girly right now.

He smiles. He looks a little out of it though, as if he really should be at home instead of at work.

"Uh, are you okay?" I raise my voice. He looks at me oddly and I wave my hands innocently, afraid that I may have offended him. It was really nosey of me after all but I continue anyway. "Well, it's probably none of my business, but you look like you've lost weight since I last saw you. I was wondering…if you were sick or something," I finish lamely, holding back a sigh because, next to him, I feel really clumsy and awkward.

For a moment, that odd look does not disappear. "Sick?" he looks a little shocked. Maybe he's not sick after all, I think, but then he smiles, and for some reason his smile does not seem quite real. "Well, I'm not sure about that," he murmurs.

I can see his eyes glaze over with…what's is it? I don't know. He's looking inward, talking more to himself than me.

"Maybe you should go to a doctor," I suggest.

"I am a doctor. Well, sort of anyway. The flower shop is just my part-time job," he suddenly laughs but I don't feel relieved.

A sick doctor. That's bad, isn't it?

The bell above the door chimes and I see Usagi-san entering with a worried look on his face. He immediately spots me and marches over.

"Misaki! What was taking so long? I was worried."

"Oh, sorry Usagi-san." I really had no idea how long I had been talking to the flower shop man for.

"Usami-san?" the man looks at Usagi-san in surprise, who is equally surprised to see him here.

"Oh, I've seen you before, haven't I?" Trust Usagi-san to not remember the names of the people he meets! "Long time no see. You were with Hiroki the last time I saw you."

"Eh? You know Kamijou-sensei?" It is my turn to be surprised. I look up at him. It seems everyone is acquainted with someone else I know.

"Y - Yes," he nods, stumbling over his words. He's probably remembering all the hell Kamijou-sensei put him through when he was young.

"Were you a student or something? He's really violent, isn't he? He just throws chalk at you for doing the littlest things!" I cry. Honestly, what kind of teacher does that in this day and age? "He's gotten a real short fuse lately. Now he spends half his time locked up in that literature office scheming who knows what with Miyagi-sensei!"

For some reason, he looks a little disturbed at this. Actually, I don't blame him.

"We're actually going to Hiroki's place right now," Usagi-san places a hand on my shoulder. We're in public, Usagi-san!

He stiffens at this, manages a small, "Oh, I see," and awkwardly gazes at the wall far beyond my head.

"It's been a long time since I've seen Hiroki. He's not _dying_, is he? How's he been?"

The man's gaze snaps back at Usagi-san. "Hiro-san is…" he begins uncertainly then suddenly breaks off to laugh. It's obviously forced. I wonder what's wrong. "Hiro-san…I don't really know," he laughs once more, apologetically this time.

Usagi-san only frowns.

"I see," he says. What does he see? "Anyway, Misaki, let's go."

Taking me by the arm, he practically drags me outside. Really, I keep telling him I'm not like Suzuki-san; he can't just drag me here and there without my consent, but it really is futile to protest.

"Uh, it was nice meeting you! I'm Misaki by the way," I wave my quick goodbyes as I am being hauled out of the shop.

"Kusama Nowaki. It was a pleasure," he bows politely, but as he raises his head again I look back and catch a glimpse of it.

That look. The expression that he wears on his face somehow feels familiar, as though I've seen it somewhere before not too long ago.

It burns itself into my mind.

XX

Kamijou was not that bad. Maybe because Usagi-san was around so I was 'safe' so to speak. Though he was a little shocked to find out who I was - apparently, Usagi-san been talking to him about me - and even more shocked to find out that Takahiro is my brother. Well, Takahashi isn't that uncommon for a surname.

He was not the only one. I can't believe I never knew that he was acquainted with Usagi-san and Nii-chan.

"Oh, Misaki-kun, wasn't it? How are you?"

Kusama-san is working at the flower shop again, as I suspected. I feel a little stupid for being here. Usually, there are a bunch of girls that hang around this place but I specifically came during the evening to avoid them. It sure gets dark early these days, it's only seven but it feels like it's already night time.

"Are you here for another bunch of flowers?" Kusama-san asks me.

Actually I did not come for flowers, I came to see him, but I can't say something like that so I nod. It's not that I want to go out of my way to make his acquaintance - though he does seem nice enough and I certainly wouldn't mind - but something has been bothering me since yesterday.

I pause, wondering if it would be presumptuous of me to speak. "K - Kusama-san," I try anyway, "you look really tired."

"Well, juggling several jobs is a tough, but it's fulfilling work," he admits. Several jobs? I can barely handle university and my part time job. I heard that being a doctor is really tough, he must have amazing stamina if he can work at several places, but I wonder what's so fulfilling about working in a flower shop when he could easily get a better job. He seems smart.

I realise I'm admiring him and promptly shake my head to ride myself of these thoughts.

Kusama-san bites his bottom lip. Though he usually seems so calm and unfazed, he shuffles a bit, suddenly restless and nervous. It confuses me that someone like him can possibly feel nervous. It feels unreal when guys like him get angry or upset.

"Is…Is Hiro-san okay?" he manages to speak. "You went to see him, right? How is he doing?"

"Hiro-san?" I'm confused for a minute. "Oh, you mean Kamijou-sensei! Well, Usagi-san went to return some books and then they had this private talk, which I didn't really catch, so I don't really know what's going on," I suddenly frown.

The memory pisses me off a bit. If they wanted to have their little 'private chat' they could have done it over the phone! Usagi-san didn't have to bring me. Honestly! Treating me like some sort of petty workman!

"Ah, I see," is all he says but his eyes are beginning to brim over with that look again.

"Kusama! We're closing now," another one of the workers, or maybe it's his boss, calls to Kusama-san.

"Oh, sorry, I've been taking up your time." That was inconsiderate of me, wasn't it?

"No it's okay, I quite like talking to you, Misaki-kun."

"Oh crap!" I can't help but cry as I look into my empty bag. "I'm really, really sorry but I think I left my wallet in Usagi-san's car." How embarrassing! It probably fell out when he - ah, no need to go there actually!

Kusama-san finishes putting a ribbon on the flowers without paying attention. "Don't worry, just take them," he offers.

"Eh? No! I couldn't possibly do that!" What if people see me getting free flowers and demand the same? What if this great act of generosity sends the shop into bankruptcy? Then it would be all my fault!

"It's fine," he pushes the flowers into my arms. The flower shop is doomed now! Doomed!

"O - okay," I tentatively accept the bunch. It's a lot more fancy than anything I could ever afford with my pocket change. "I'll pay you back for these as soon as I can, I promise," I insist - I don't want a ruined business on my conscience - but he shakes his head.

"It's okay, give them to Usami-san."

"W - Why?"

"You called him 'Usagi-san' just now, didn't you? You two must be close," he smiles knowingly.

My skin prickles. "Ehhh? No, no, not really! He's just my landlord, and my brother's friend, and he knows my literature professor and…well…" I stutter and stumble, trying to make some sort of excuse because the fact that Kusama-san was right on the money the first time is just too embarrassing! I flail my arms around and adamantly deny being gay. I am _not_ gay dammit, I just happen to like Usagi-san a lot, that's all!

But I stop because I realise that Kusama-san is not listening.

I can see it. I can see it again; that strangely familiar look that glazes over his face as he stares up at the sky. A sad, nostalgic sort of look.

If I had to give it a sound, it would be 'ahh.' The kind of 'ahh' people sigh when they give up on something they've been holding onto for a long time. The kind of 'aah' they breathe when they think 'Ahh, well, it was good whilst it lasted' or 'Ahh, that's life I guess.'

Except it's sort of different. If Usagi-san was here I'm sure he could describe it in all sorts of poetics ways. Kusama-san keeps staring at the sky as if he wants to sprout wings and fly away. No, that's not a good comparison since summer is over and I'm sure most of the birds have already migrated south.

"It must be nice," he whispers.

Parents in heaven, Nii-chan in Osaka, I'm sorry, but I don't think that I should leave this guy alone.

* * *

I stepped further into AU territory by making Nowaki and Misaki slightly familiar with each other before the awards festival but there was no choice. Still, I don't think it makes that huge a difference. This is already a full blown AU anyway.

In the next chapter; We're back to Hiroki!


	5. A perlude to a storm

* * *

**A prelude to a storm**

**- Hiroki -**

XX

"The director's brat will be staying around your place, won't he?" I say as I enter the literature office, swinging my bag onto the table. Too much force. It slides along the table and skids over the other end with a soft '_whump_.'

"It's a huge pain," he sighs and snuffs out the cigarette he was smoking. My eyes narrow at the overflowing ashtray. At the rate he's going, he'll be sending himself to an early grave. I don't think he cares though.

"What do you think? Want me to steer clear of your place for a while?" I offer because I know he's going to have it tough, and me being there isn't going to help the slightest. Even though I'd rather stay with him, even though I don't really want to return to my gapingly empty apartment, I offer to take back my overnight things instead of imposing on him.

"If you wouldn't mind. Sorry, Kamijou."

"I don't really care," I shrug, "at least he's not staying around my place."

I don't say, 'but what am I supposed to do then?' or 'so you're just going to push me aside to make room for this brat?' and he doesn't say 'screw it, Shinobu's gonna have to deal with it' or 'don't worry, I'll work something out for both of us.' We're adults. We know that we have to compromise. Some things just have to take precedence over our relationship. There's nothing anyone can do about it.

Miyagi finishes another cigarette and pulls the last one from his pack.

I wrinkle my nose. I'm used to the smell of smoke because of Akihiko, but that does not mean I like it all that much. "You look like you're gonna die," I mutter.

"Why, thank you, Kamijou," Miyagi chuckles. "Honestly, the kid goes on about Fate this and Fate that, how I should take responsibility and stuff like that. I wonder if it's Australia that's done this to him. He's got some twisted logic."

Maybe. If Australia gives you twisted logic, then America turns you into a promise-breaking, never-calling, insensitive idiot.

"Responsibility?" I ask. This makes Miyagi freeze. He looks like a deer caught in the head-lights.

"Uh, it's nothing!" he says hastily and quickly returns to his paper work. How suspicious.

I don't call him on it though, I just shrug and say nonchalantly; "Whatever. If you need a break you can always drop by my place."

This, of course, sends Miyagi spiralling back to playful-mode. "Oh Kamijou!" he suddenly wails and throws himself on top of me, rubbing his cheek against mine like some damn animal. "You are my one source of solace in this crazy, uncontrollable world!" he sighs melodramatically. I push him back but the onslaught continues.

"Miyagi!"

The door to the literature office bursts open. I can tell straight away that it's not one of our students even without looking at that light hair and eyes. Our students would be too afraid to do anything more than knock and wait for half an hour.

Shinobu freezes as he stares down at us, our clothes ruffled and on top of each other, sprawled across the office floor. Ah, now _this _is a compromising position.

"I…I'll just excuse myself now," I cough and untangle myself from under Miyagi in order to quickly make a clean exit.

Miyagi calls me back as if I'm betraying his trust by leaving him at the mercy of the director's brat but I don't care. As I pass, Shinobu glares at me. I don't bother glaring back.

XX

"We saw that guy you usually hang out with. What was his name?" Akihiko told me when he came round to drop off some books. It caught me by surprise. Trust Akihiko to be so damn blunt.

"Kusama-san," his little boy-toy supplied. "Kusama Nowaki."

Honestly, I didn't know Akihiko had _those_ kind of tastes. Even though Takahiro was a total air-head, I could somewhat understand the attraction but this new development has me completely baffled. Sure, Takahashi is a little cute, but he's nothing like his brother. They don't even look alike! Besides, how could he get over Takahiro just to move on to the brother? That's - that's…not normal! It's not normal, is it?

Well, whatever makes Akihiko happy I guess. That obsession over Takahiro was definitely no good for him. Huh, at least _someone's _happy here.

"Oh, you saw Nowaki? I see…" My pride would not allow me to ask after his health. He's a doctor anyway, he knows how to take care of himself.

Akihiko glanced over to Takahashi. "Misaki, could you give us a minute?"

Misaki. He calls him by his first name…whilst Takahashi refers to Akihiko by that ridiculous rabbit nickname. It reminded me a little of myself and Nowaki. Miyagi still calls me Kamijou. I still call him Miyagi. It doesn't really matter, a name is just a name after all.

"S- sure," Takashi looked a little hurt but he did not protest. What does Akihiko see in him anyway?

Once alone, Akihiko placed a hand on my arm. "Hey, what's up with you?" he asked, in that same soft, caring voice that I fell in love with. Akihiko is unbearably kind. I wished that he would not be so concerned, it makes me feel even more pathetic. It was almost crushing; both that arm and his voice.

"What are you talking about? Listen to people when they're talking, Bakahiko! I'm fine!" I laughed but I did not look at him.

His hand reached out for my hair. It was so familiar, for a moment it sent my head reeling back to the past when everything was so damn simple and I was just some wide-eyed, clueless kid grasping at dreams.

"Idiot. Don't make me worry about you. I'm busy enough as it is."

"_You're _the idiot, Bakahiko."

XX

It's been weeks yet wonder I what he's up to. How pathetic is that? Even though I was the one who broke it off, even though _I _told him that I didn't want to see him again, I can't keep my mind from wandering back those six years. I tell myself, even if I saw him again, I wouldn't take him back. I don't need him anymore.

Why do I keep lying? Even to myself. I can never say what I really feel, I can't handle anything too truthful. If I tell the truth, I'll commit myself, and I don't want to get too involved in anything as uncertain as that. I want to keep at a safe distance from everyone at all times.

Thinking about it, what was I so scared of? I just got hurt anyway so that obviously did not work.

The door bell rings. I forget that I'm supposed to be reading; there's a book in my hand which I haven't so much as looked at. I hold it open at the page I'm supposed to be at and get up to answer the door.

My first thought is Nowaki, but he doesn't know where I live now so that's impossible. I think it's probably Akihiko come back to pester me again. Except it's neither.

It's Miyagi. And he looks totally serious. He paints an odd picture, standing in front of my door in a casual suit with the setting sun to his back and a sour look on his face. He looks a little pissed off too.

"Miyagi?"

The last time I saw him, he was struggling with the director's brat. Before I can invite him in, however, he opens his mouth and says; "Hey, Kamijou, put me up here for a while, will you?"

I admit, I'm a little stunned. I think that's why he looks so damn sour. I know that I did make the offer before, but we don't normally intrude on each other's life like this; it's become something of an unspoken rule. I open the door wide for him and he steps into the front room. He's crossing a line and I'm not really sure what to make of it. Then again, he's probably just as baffled as well. Probably.

He takes a glance around my apartment, at the mess of books and paper that I haven't bothered to clear away since I officially broke up with Nowaki. His eyes are full of disinterest. I told him my apartment was like a library so he should not be surprised.

"I didn't think you'd actually take me up on my offer so soon," I close the door behind him. "And? Has the great Professor Miyagi run out of steam so soon? Can't even baby-sit a little brat?" I try smiling.

That smile is probably wiped off my face in a second. I wonder what I must look like. He's holding me. Too tight. Is he trying to squeeze me to death?

"M - Miyagi!" I wheeze. What's gotten into him all of a sudden? He's acting strange.

"Kamijou, can you kiss me for a minute?" his voice is breathless and hoarse. Is this really Miyagi?

"Well, I'm not sure if I can be _that_ precise about time but - "

Again, his kiss silences me, but there's something so desperate about it that it knocks my breath away, something strangely lonely even though I am with him right now and we're kissing. I'm seriously worried right now. What could have happened to him?

I lean forward to deepen the kiss. Maybe if I do, it won't seem so lonely. I don't want to admit it, but whilst the brat has been staying at Miyagi's place, I've come to realise how empty my apartment is despite the clutter of books.

His hands fumble at my buttons and he peels off my shirt but, though I like the feel of his rough hands against my bare skin, I push him back before he can work his way further down.

"M - Miyagi!" I begin to protest. He wraps his arms all the way around me and pulls me closer without a word. I'm worried. This isn't how he usually acts. "Seriously, what's wrong with you?" I ask as we both sink to the floor, my hands holding on to his shoulders to guide him down.

"Nothing. I'm just tired," he kneels down. I too sit with my back against the wall and he rests his head against my shoulder, slowly closing his eyes.

It's weird. He always seems so lively and amiable in public. Don't become jaded, stupid Miyagi, don't become like me. Or are you already there?

"Huh, you're such a baby," I murmur and, a little awkwardly, ruffle his hair. He makes a faint grunting sound, which seems to be an acknowledgment but I'm not sure.

With my book in my hands, I flip the page and stare at the characters without taking anything in. We sit in silence, I listening to the soft sound of Miyagi's breathing, and Miyagi trying to forget whatever it is that's going on in his life so that he can sleep.

We sit in perfectly balanced silence and, for a moment at least, everything seems so peaceful.

I flip the page without so much as looking at it.

I remember reading a book a long time ago. I forgot the title. I've read a lot of books over the years but this one was special. It was stupid and cliché and had a crap ending and I absolutely hated it. I was a university student back then so I was always strapped for cash and that purchase felt so bitter to me because it seemed like a phenomenal waste of money.

Yet I remember it so clearly, as clearly as one of Akihiko's books, which I always take the time to read slowly, letting every word sink in before turning the page. It was about a tribe of people. When the summer solstice comes, the men return from the plains and stay there with the women until the winter solstice when they leave again to hunt until summer.

It was about this woman who was promised to marry the head of the tribe upon the summer solstice, yet she fell in love with another man and planned to marry him instead. Such a stupid, mushy cliché.

Except, when the summer solstice came, and the men returned, she did not marry the one she loved and chose the other man instead.

I thought that she was a coward, and unbearably stupid to boot. I hate weak characters like that, and she was exceptionally weak, too afraid of losing happiness to try and grasp it, too scared of committing her heart that she would throw it to someone she did not love instead.

But Miyagi presses against me as he sleeps on my shoulder, his brow slightly furrowed - maybe he's having a bad dream - and I am well aware that I too am a coward.

XX

I wanted to skip today. After what happened yesterday, I was afraid that things would be awkward between Miyagi and me. I don't want other things changing in my already unstable life, at least with Miyagi I can predict what he's going to do and say. No, that's not right, a man does not run away!

"Ka-mi-jou! Did you make me a bento full of love?" Miyagi catches up to me as I make my way to M university. Oh, good, I'm secretly relieved that he's back to his usual self, though I think he may have just become ten times as annoying.

"Like hell I would!" I snap back. My usual response. Let's try to restore normality here, shall we?

"Oh, don't be such a stranger, Kamijou, not after all we've been through!" he catches me in a bear hug, trying to press his lips against my cheek.

No, things aren't back to normal. He's overcompensating. If only I had gone out yesterday instead of staying at home.

"I don't care about that stuff!" I growl and pry him off of me. I don't want to be groped here, in front of all the other students who pass us by on their way to university.

"Miyagi!"

We both stop and turn. The sudden interruption makes Miyagi relinquish his grip and I manage to stumble free. The director's kid is there, storming towards us without a care. I sigh and think of it as an annoyance but Miyagi is obviously much more irked about this turn of events.

"Shinobu," Miyagi's teasing tone has suddenly shifted to a serious one. He frowns humourlessly at the kid. "I thought I told you not to interfere with my work."

Ah. That's another thing Miyagi and I have in common; we're both totally dedicated to our work. Everything else, comes second to our jobs. Everything.

The kid looks a little hurt but he does not let his insecurities get to him. Brave kid. He's still weird though.

"I know. I know that, but I can't leave you be until you act like a man and take responsibility!" he demands.

Now this is news to me. "Oh? What, did you do something naughty, Professor? What did you do? Steal this boy's chastity?" I laugh. Shinobu swiftly looks away, glaring at the ground and Miyagi suddenly tenses and avoids my gaze.

Oh, crap! What's this? I was only joking about the chastity part!

"It's nothing like that!" Miyagi quickly jumps in to assure me of his upstanding citizenship. Yeah right, I know just what kind of pervert he really is. "Shinobu," he turns to the boy, forcing a smile, "is just a little delusional."

"Don't call me delusional!" the boy snaps. "I know you said you're in a relationship but I would love you _ten times _more than anyone else could possibly love you!"

Um…is this a love confession I'm hearing? From a guy seventeen years younger than Miyagi no less! This can't be legal.

"Besides, if you don't try something new, how will you know what's right for you? You should just sleep with me, even if it's just a try-out!" he continues angrily. Miyagi was right; that's some twisted logic right there. "Anyway, what's so great about that person?"

"Shinobu!" Miyagi snaps, earning him and irritated; "What?" from Shinobu, who glares at him as heatedly as Miyagi is glaring back.

He jabs a thumb in my direction. Great, he just had to drag me into this stupid affair. I don't really want to get involved in something like this. "'That person' happens to be right in front of you!" he declares, glancing sideways at me. I try to suppress my groan.

For most part, it shuts the kid up. I've never seen such an incredulous expression.

"N - No way! What?" he looks as though he cannot believe it. Those strangely blue eyes are wide with disbelief. Maybe he was not expecting Miyagi to be dating another man.

"Yes, really," he replies tersely, his patience wearing thin. There must be something special about the brat after all because I've rarely seen Miyagi like this. "I told you, I don't date brats and I'm in a relationship already. Give it up."

The kid still has that dumb, surprised look on his face He glances from Miyagi to me and then back again. Then he says it.

"You two don't look like you're in love."

"Shinobu!" Miyagi quickly scolds him but it doesn't really matter.

At any other time, at any other place, if it had been any other person, I would have yelled at them, or at least bitten back with some scathing retort. Now, in this time, at this place, in front of this person, I can do neither. His words cut right through me. Because I know that they're true.

I am not _in love_ with Miyagi. Not at all.

* * *

It's a Miyagi chapter next and we get to find out what happened between him and Shinobu. Please look forward to it!


	6. The Thunder rolls

It's Miyagi's turn to shine now. Ah, I'm a little nervous. I'm not very good with Miyagi but I did my best.

* * *

**The thunder rolls**

**- Miyagi - **

XX

"You two don't look like you're in love."

How stupid. As stupid as the Fate this and Fate that, which he keeps swinging around. Why can kids say such heavy words so easily? Things like fate and forever aren't meant to be said so lightly. It's as if he's mocking them.

"Shinobu!" I snap then turn to Kamijou, who looks pretty solemn at the moment. "Sorry Kamijou, I'll deal with him," I say hurriedly, grabbing Shinobu's wrist and pulling him away.

"Hey! M - Miyagi!" he struggles but I don't let him go until we're a safe distance away from anyone else. I have no idea what this loud-mouth professing his love to me might do to my career.

Shinobu snatches his wrist back, glaring at me angrily. For most part, I believe I'm staring at back at him coolly, unfazed.

"Do you love him?" he demands an answer. "Do you love that man?"

I wish he would stop saying 'love' so easily.

I sigh and press to fingers between my eyes, to the same place that wrinkles the most whenever Kamijou frowns. I'm beginning to understand why he has a penchant for looking irritable all the time.

"Shinobu, I'm going to get angry now. Please stop trying to force your way into my life!" I control my voice. I'm an adult so I shouldn't be getting angry at a kid.

I probably shouldn't have gone to Kamijou's apartment. What was I even doing there? Crossing that invisible line we hd silently dictated never to cross.

At least it was Kamijou. At least he can pretend it never happened.

I don't want a repeat of last time. I don't want to storm out because he kept pushing, and pushing, and pushing. It was bad enough that I flew all the way to Kamijou's place because of it, letting someone else see me like that. That's why today I've been extra cheerful around him.

Yet Shinobu won't let it go. Why does he keep pushing me? Why is he so adamant about prying into my life? Why me? What did I ever do to deserve all this attention?

"Does that man love you? I refuse to believe that he could possibly love you more than me! You don't even _seem_ in love!" he keeps ranting and I think I feel a migraine coming on.

"That's because we respect each other's space and don't poke our noses into each other's affairs when they're not wanted. It's called respect!"

I refrain from adding on some sarcastic comment. What does it look like to be in love anyway? It's not like I'm going to go around with hearts in my eyes.

"It's indifference!" he shouts. He gets so worked up so easily. "It's apathy! You just don't care enough to get too involved that's all! Compared to that, I would rather be hated by you than for you to feel nothing about me!"

"Well, you're well on your way to your goal then," I bite back. This is no good, I can't lose my cool to some stupid kid, not again, even if his persistence is annoying the hell out of me.

"I can't believe that man could love you! I love you much, much more! I'd love you forever! I'd love you even if you died!"

"Stop it," I tell him sternly, even though I know he won't. It pisses me off. "Stop saying things like 'love' and 'forever' so easily."

I remember. I said those things to Sensei once upon a time. I didn't last forever at all.

"When did I say them so easily? I only say these things to _you_, I even came all the way from Australia for you!" Shinobu keeps yelling.

"I never asked you to!" I finally snap back. I don't know what it is about him but I just can't keep my cool for too long. "I never wanted you to butt into my life and force your way into my private affairs!" I yell back at him even though I know I'm being childish and sinking to his level.

"Why not? Why don't you just give me a chance?"

His resolve is astounding. If only he put that determination to something more constructive than wooing my heart. He's got bad taste in men anyway.

"Miyagi!" He reaches for my sleeve but I shake him away. It's late and I have to go to work.

"Enough. I have things to do."

"Wait!"

"Enough!" I yell, more forcefully this time. The path of our eyes catch and he stumbles back, stunned to silence for just a moment.

I'm tired of all this fate crap. I'm tired of people trying to get close to me when they're not wanted. I don't want to have to bother with this; it's too tiring.

Before he can recover, I promptly turn on my heel and march away. I have a stack of paper work to go through and classes to teach. This time, I think I might take a page from Kamijou's book and start hurling chalk at whoever looks at me the wrong way.

XX

As the working day ends I stumble wearily home. Back at my apartment, it's blissfully quiet. I spend this time _not_ doing something constructive like preparing my next lessons but trying to figure out how to shake Shinobu off of my back instead.

Now I've calmed down, I can think about this clearly. I mean, honestly, he can't be serious! An old man like me? There's no way he could possibly really want a serious relationship with me. He's probably just caught up in one of those youthful crushes or something. Kids these days are so quick declare every slight, tingly feeling they get as love.

Well, I can sort him out soon enough. I can easily talk this out and, as I hear the door open and then shut, I'm already revising what I have to say.

"I'm back," he returns with a frown on his face. He reminds me of Kamijou when he acts like this.

"Shinobu, sit down," I point to the couch opposite and he warily takes a seat. I snuff out my cigarette in the ashtray and sigh, ready to begin my slow work on him. "Look, I'm sorry for yelling at you this morning but let's take this from an objective perspective. Forget the age difference, forget the fact that I'm already in a relationship, I still don't think that this would work."

"Why?" he stresses. Do I really have to explain this to him?

"Well, come on, we like different things, we've grown up in different times so naturally our tastes will be different. We just don't have that much in common." That's reasonable, isn't it? Even Shinbou has to acknowledge something like that.

"So? Opposites attract," he says simply, as if this is obvious.

I hate the way he thinks so simply; it proves that he still has the mind of a child. I hate that he thinks everything can easily be solved, as if there's a simple solution to all life's problems. If yelling about love and forcing myself on others was any good, I would…well, I don't know where I would be but I wouldn't be here, that's for sure.

I hate his persistence and his stubbornness, I hate his heavy-handed way of dealing with things and his disregard for the other's personal feelings and privacy.

But, most of all, I hate how he reminds me of myself. He's like an afterimage of myself when Sensei was alive. I don't want to confront that old me, I've done away with him already. There's nothing but bad memories back there.

"I can't talk to you," I sigh and gather my things. It's funny. Even though it's my house, I'm the one who has to leave. Oh, that's truely manly!

Shinobu catches my sleeve as I try to leave. "Just try me!" he insists. Try him? What is he, some cheap, second hand car? "How will you know we're not right for each other is you don't try? Miyagi!"

I pull away. What's wrong with this kid? Why is his head so backwards?

He follows me to the door and latches on to my sleeve, still insisting that I take responsibility and other garbage like that.

I don't know why I do it, he must have driven me insane, but one minute he's shouting and the next minute he's completely silent, lying on the floor.

I realise that I'm gazing down at him, that I'm on top of him a little too late. Well fine, I think, I can always improvise. Since he's always clamouring at me to go out with him, I think I'll scare him a little. That's right, I heard that kids learn best when there's danger or fear involved.

"Fine," I say, completely serious. "You wanted this. So don't come crying to me."

And then I kiss him. And, underneath me, I can tell that's he's shocked. This is what we call a taste of one's own medicine, Shinobu-chin.

I'm not gentle or sparing. I force my tongue into his mouth and flick it against the roof of his mouth. Even though he's struggling, I pin his wrists down and keep my lips forcefully pressed against his.

After what I think is an adequate amount of time, I rise, feeling rather pleased with myself. Finally, I can call an end to this whole stupid act.

Or not.

Crap.

He's...crying? He's serious! Crap, what do I do? I wasn't expecting this! Why can't he just hit me one and run off? I never thought that he would actually, seriously, honestly want a proper relationship with me. Is he nuts? What's he thinking?

I quickly get to my feet and he sits up wiping his lips. I mumble something and turn to leave, even though his voice is strained and calling after me, I ignore it and leave. I quickly leave, very quickly.

I think that I might be in trouble.

XX

"I'm going to see you around here a lot more often, aren't I?"

"Is that a problem?"

I look at Kamijou, pretending to frown as he returns the favour - though his frown is probably real. I keep warning him about wrinkles.

"Not really," finally he shrugs. I thought things would be awkward between us after Shinobu's little rant but they're not. It's exactly the same. Exactly the same.

Typical. I don't know how or why I ran back to Kamijou's place. Yet again. I try to make the visit seem as casual as possible but really I just want refuge. I'm being terrorised by a teenager. Me, a fully grown man, chased away, twice now, by a boy almost half my age!

I turn back to one of Kamijou's books, though I'm not really interested in it. He told me it was crap but I just had to see for myself. When I can take it no more, I toss it aside and pull another from Kamijou's ever growing collection.

I really love his apartment. It's like a huge forest of books and words that I can get lost in. I can run away from Shinobu and come here whenever I want. I don't understand his obsession with Usami though. Why does he need three copies of every book?

I purposefully block all thoughts of Shinobu from my mind. If I don't, I might just lose it. I want to bury myself in a book and forget.

I'm lying on my back, holding his book above my head to read it when he returns and places a glass of juice on my stomach. It's cold and it tickles so I remove it and roll over.

"Ka - mi - jou, have you been lonely without me?" I try teasing him, though really all I am doing is covering up my own worries. He's so easy to read. I always know what he's going to say.

"What? Were you gone?" he retorts. "I never noticed."

Ouch. Then again, that's what I like about him, and since his reply pleases me so much I decide to reward him with a kiss.

He only stutters and blushes, backing away shocked, as if we haven't done it a hundred times already. If I have to make one complaint about Kamijou, it's that he can be stupidly immature sometimes. Like certain brats. No, don't go there, Miyagi!

Well, I don't really mind. The amount of good points outweigh the bad. I like Kamijou because he knows my limits and he never tries to push me. In the end, people don't want to get too involved in other people. They can't really understand each other. They spend too much time trying to understand themselves to bother about others, but at least Kamijou knows this so he doesn't bother wasting his time. I think that's what I like the most about him.

I smile a little bitterly at the thought. Here I am assessing him as if he's a piece a piece of fruit, weighing up all the pros and cons. I kiss him, harder this time. Harder than I kissed Shinobu. My hands slide down his shirt. I don't even know where they're going.

This time, however, I let _him _undress me. I let him take his time with my shirt, slowly sliding it off as we kiss. His fingers shake a little and he doesn't look at me. It's always a little awkward at first when we're not drunk, as if there's a wall between us that we need to break before we can really feel each other.

Shinobu's words from this morning flutter back. My thoughts turn to Sensei and I push Kamijou down and roughly occupy his mouth.

Not Sensei, I don't want to think about her today. Or ever. But I don't want to forget either. I thought that during summer we would go to the beach. They'd be shaved ice and cold soba noodles, brightly coloured shells and golden sand. She'd complain about the heat and I'd run all the way down the whole beach looking for a parasol. The sky would be blue, cloudless, so damn blue and burning it would look almost artificial.

But we never went to the beach. Sensei was too sick and before I knew it, summer was over.

Then I got married to Risako. She was nice. She was pretty and intelligent and strong-willed, the kind of woman people call 'a great catch' but I didn't love her. I couldn't. I vaguely remember Shinobu from those times; a distant scowling figure. I always thought that maybe he sensed that I did not love his sister, that was why he always looked so sour.

Sometimes, when I was visiting Risako, he would be coming home from school, dumping his bag by the doorway and stretching out all the cramped muscles in his back. We never exchanged more than greetings though. Back then, I actually thought he was shy!

Ah, I hate this! I want to get that little terrorist out of my head!

"Miyagi," Kamijou calls me back to reality. I remember that I'm kissing him. I remember that one of my hands are currently on the button of his jeans. I finish my work there and move on to the zipper.

It's rare that he calls my name during these times. He hardly says anything, just moans when I kiss his mouth and trail kisses down his neck, groaning again when my hands reach down his pants.

Come to think of it, Kamijou's never asked me if I'm in love with him. Then again, I've never asked Kamijou if he's in love with me either. Well, it's not like there's a point. If I asked him, he would just blush and stutter and run away or try to change the subject.

I can guess what he would say though, if I really did pin him down and forced him to answer truthfully. It would go like this;

_Do you love me Kamijou?_

A blush. A stutter.

_I like you Miyagi, but…_

A pause. Because it probably hurts.

…_But you're not Nowaki. _

I smile a little. I think I like Kamijou because he's so easy to read. I always know what he's going to say.

* * *

Writting Miyagi was quite a challenge. I'm glad it's over though. Misaki's POV up next. Let's see how Nowaki's been faring.


	7. Across the burning sky

* * *

**Across the burning sky**

**- Misaki - **

XX

I think Usagi-san is a little mad at me. The reason is probably because, lately, I've been visiting Kusama-san at the flower shop so often.

I try to explain to him that I can't help it, but it's no good because I don't really understand why I always feel the need to see him either. Even when Usagi-san uses those perverted methods to try and get an answer out of me it does no good.

He's busy writing another BL novel at the moment. I don't see why he feels the need to put so much effort in to it. Whatever. As long as it doesn't have me in it, I don't care.

"Misaki-kun, the usual?" Kusama-san always smiles at me when he sees me. He's looking much better than when I met him at the coffee shop. Even the other workers have come to recognise my face.

I nod and take out my wallet. This time, I checked my bag five times on the way here to make sure that I definitely had it. Lately a piece of my salary from my part-time job has all been going to flowers. I think Usagi-san is developing a hatred for them though.

We talk about all sorts of things. Kusama-san is very patient and a very good listener, I suppose that is all part of his doctor's training; to have a good bedside manner.

Kusama-san finishes wrapping the bunch of marigolds in an orange ribbon just before it's time to close up. He hands them to me as his boss pulls down the shutters of the shop and bids us a good evening.

As soon as we're outside the sky opens up and begins to pelt us with rain. The air was cold anyway and now the whole district looks grey and dull.

The rain is cold and hard, it stings when it hits my skin. There's not a single soul outside other than Kusama-san and me, kept indoors by the heavy rain. Like this, it feels as if we're the only two people in the whole wide world.

"Oh no, I forgot to bring my umbrella!" I sigh. I'm going to be soaked to the bone before I can get back to Usagi-san's place. Then I'll have to take a shower and Usagi-san will probably try to join me. There's only one possible outcome if he decides to jump me in the shower.

Kusama-san opens the palm of his hand to catch the rain. He strangely suits this kind of weather. Maybe because he's so tall he looks like an actor in one of those tragic black and white films. I hope Kusama-san's life turns out better than that.

"You better get home quickly before you catch a cold."

I don't know what's worse; catching a cold or being attacked by Usagi-san.

"You too Kusama-san, you don't have an umbrella either."

"I'll be fine," he smiles. He probably does not care if he gets wet or not since he looks good even soaking wet anyway.

I bow as a car passes us by on the road. "Well then, until next - "

Ah.

Kusama-san looks a little shocked. "Misaki-kun? Are you okay, Misaki-kun?"

"…I'm…fine," I manage, though I can feel a sneeze building up.

I'm completely soaked! I feel like a wet rat. A wet, very muddy rat. Why do people have to drive so fast? That car totally splashed me with muddy rainwater and now I'm soaking wet! I think I can even feel my underwear dripping with water. Ugh, it feels gross!

"You're completely soaked!" he takes off my coat and drapes it over my shoulders. Whoa, it's so big on me I feel like I'm being wrapped in a huge blanket. I feel a little bad that his nice coat is going to get all muddy because of me. "Why don't you come to my apartment? It's closer and you can get dried up there," he offers.

I have no choice to accept since I can't really take the bus home in this state. I don't think the driver would even let me on when I'm dripping wet and muddy.

It's getting late though and I don't want to bother Usagi-san by making him worry about me. I left my phone at home too. Well, I'm sure I Kusama-san will let me borrow his, so I nod and follow him.

To be honest, I am just a little bit curious about what kind of place Kusama-san's house is. I'm sure it's very neat and tidy and it won't have any strange things in it like a room full of bears or toy train sets. No, Kusama-san is normal after all, if slightly cooler and much taller than your average person.

After a long stretch of silence, I decide to strike up a conversation. I don't really like silences, they make me feel awkward, especially next to someone like Kusama-san. I remember that Kusama-san was acquainted to Kamijou-sensei so maybe that's a good place to start. It's always better to talk about something you have in common with the other person.

"Kamijou-sensei's been strange lately. I think his aim has become more accurate," I rub my forehead. Yes, I'm sure it's become more accurate. "So, Kusama-san, how do you know Kamijou-sensei?"

Kusama-san's eyes flicker over me for a second then back to the road straight ahead. I don't know if he's hesitating or just trying to remember when it was but he answers only after a while. "Ah, he was my tutor several years ago. I had Hiro-san tutor me privately."

A knowing smile creeps up on his lips. What reason could anyone have to smile when they're being tutored by Kamijou-sensei?

"Seriously? How did you survive?"

"Hiro-san is not that bad!" he laughs.

Ah, that's good. For a moment there, I thought I had chosen an uncomfortable topic - it is Kamijou-sensei after all - but it seems it was just my nerves, I'm glad he can laugh.

"I admire you, Kusama-san. Calling Kamijou the devil Hiro-san, that must take guts. I don't think anyone would dare!" Again, I rub my forehead. It still stings a little.

He smiles faintly at glances at the sky. "Well I'm allowed to because I am - _was_ - his lover," he says softly.

Eh?

Ehhhh? He says it so simply! Just like that? I know we've gotten close but…just like that?

"That can't be true! This is demon Kamijou we're talking about!"

"Hiro-san is actually very cute," he replies calmly. How can he be so calm when it's Kamijou-sensei? _Demon_ Kamijou! How can that scary guy be cute? He's the total opposite of cute!

My brain feels like it's exploding just trying to picture a cute Kamijou-sensei. It's as impossible as trying to imagine me topping Usagi-san! I'm surprised at Kusama-san, he could so easily score a hot babe if he tried.

Actually, I don't think he would even have to try, I've seen those high school girls swoon whenever they pass him. Compared to those girls, Kamijou-sensei is…Kamijou-sensei. What's so cute about a guy like that? I was tricked! Kusama-san is _not _normal at all!

"Well, I'm not really his lover anymore so I guess I don't have any right to talk about him like that," he smile quickly fades into a frown, "and after I so eagerly came back from America."

Ah, it's that look again.

XX

We reach Kusama-san's apartment in silence. His place looks totally normal, there's no unnecessary mess or anything odd about it at all. It looks just like a single guy's apartment. Or, it would look just like a single guy's apartment except there are stacks of boxes full of books in the corner. Loads of them

I strip down in private and wrap a bathrobe around myself. It's Kusama-san's so of course it trails along the floor whenever I take a step. It's so big and fluffy, I kind of like it.

He takes my clothes and leaves me in the front room whilst he puts my things into wash. I sit on the couch feeling a little awkward. With exception of the books, it's an empty room with only a couch and coffee table.

I really screwed up back there. How was I supposed to know that Kusama-san was going out with Kamijou-sensei, or that he had broken up with him? It's odd though, Kusama-san doesn't seem to hate Kamijou-sensei, in fact it's the complete opposite.

I wonder if he still loves him.

Ugh, what am I thinking? I can't just ask him that! In any case, I bet, nine out ten, it was probably Kamijou-sensei's fault anyway!

Yeah, Kusama-san should just forget about a guy like that and get himself a girlfriend!

I get up and wander around the room, though there's not much to see. I wonder if Kusama-san has any books which will help me improve my grades. As I pass, my elbow brushes against a box and it topples over, books spilling onto the floor.

I'm so clumsy! I get down onto my knees and quickly shovel them back in. There's load of difficult looking books in there, most of them are fiction. Maybe Kusama-san likes reading.

Then something catches my eye. Partly covered by books there's a bag full of letters. My curiosity is too strong to resist and I pull it out from under all the books.

They're airmail, addressed to Japan from America. Well, some are anyway. Some are sealed and some are open and don't even have postage stamps or an address, just a name; Kamijou Hiroki. That's odd. Why does Kusama-san have Kamijou-sensei's mail?

I know this is going to come back and bite me in the butt some day but I take out an unsealed letter. I really shouldn't…but I can't help but read it. Just a little peek won't hurt and I'll put it back in its proper place afterwards.

Before I know it, I'm reading all the way to the bottom.

I don't think Kusama-san should get a girlfriend after all.

What have I done? First I take a letter without permission and then - but I'm such a sucker for things like this, maybe because I like Kusama-san I feel like I might cry. I wonder how they broke up. There must have been a time between the writing of this letter and the break up when they probably had a disagreement but I can't imagine it at all, Kusama-san is so kind after all.

Or maybe that kindess was not enough, just like with Usagi-san and…

"Oh, Kusama-san, I completely forgot, I need to call Usagi-san!"

"Go ahead, Misaki-kun. The phone's right there," he calls from the kitchen.

I quickly correct the box and put all the books back in. I'm so stupid, I think as I quickly dial Usagi-san's home number. I got so caught up in Kusama-san's letter that I totally forgot that I've been making Usagi-san worry!

"Usami residence," I hear Usagi-san's bored and very annoyed voice down the line.

"Ah, Usagi-san?"

"Misaki!" his tone completely shifts. "Where are you? Do you know how late it is? I wanted to call your phone but you left it here. I was just about to go looking for you!"

I knew I'd be in trouble "Sorry. I'm at Kusama-san's place right now," I apologise.

I can tell he's frowning even down the phone "Where is it? I'll come and pick you up immediately,"

"Eh? You don't have to." I want to tell him not to trouble himself, that I can always take the bus but he cuts through me before I can even speak and I have no choice but to give Kusama-san's address to him.

Half an hour and one cup of tea later, I'm sitting in my nice, dry clothes again when the doorbell rings. Repeatedly.

Usagi-san looks annoyed. He shoots a glare at Kusama-san, who stares back neutrally. After a moment of exchanging looks, he grabs my wrist and pulls me away.

"Take care Misaki-kun," I hear Kusama-san say as I'm being forcibly removed from the area.

"Y - You too, Kusama-san," I dip my head as I'm hauled outside and he smiles a little sadly.

There it is. I wonder why he has it; it really doesn't suit him. It looks out of place and odd there, something that should not belong to him.

That look is there again, that same look which means he isn't really seeing anything anymore. Well, he is seeing something, but it's something that doesn't exist anymore. Or maybe it never existed in the first place.

It hits me then. I think I know why that expression seems so familiar, I know where I've seen that look before!

It was…last year, I think. Sometime during winter after I had first met Usagi-san. It's that look, that's it! The one in the cold and the dark when the snow was falling like cotton wool and the lamp post above us kept flickering on and off and the huge shadows of moth wings kept fluttering above us.

Yes, that's where I've seen it before, because Usagi-san had that same look when he always thought about Nii-chan.

It's that soft and gentle look; like…like someone trying to keep a butterfly in their hands, I suppose; afraid of holding too hard and crushing it, scared that it will fly away, uneasy because they know they can't keep it forever. I wonder what kind of butterfly Kusama-san is trying to catch.

Ah, maybe that's wrong. Don't butterflies die when summer is over?

Maybe that was why I could not leave Kusama-san alone. He just reminded me of Usagi-san. I think, maybe, unconsciously, I saw the shadow of the old Usagi-san in him and had to do something.

But maybe I'm dwelling on it too much. Usagi-san takes my hand and drags me out of Kusama-san's apartment. I can tell from the way he squeezes my hand that he must be in a _really_ bad mood.

We get to his car and I realise that I've still got one of the letters he never sent to Kamijou-sensei. This is bad, isn't it? Would this be considered theft? Could I go to jail for this? Well, I didn't mean to take it, I just forgot that I had it and Kusama-san probably did not notice it amongst all my books and university stuff.

I want to return it right away but Usagi-san isn't really all that accommodating when he's in these kind of moods so I decide not to say anything. I'll wait for a better time.

He drags me to his car and opens the door. "Get in," he says roughly, pushing me into the front passenger's seat, slamming the door behind him as he gets in and revs up the engine.

"U - Usagi-san! What are you mad about Usagi-san?"

His mood is starting to rub off on me. Even I'm beginning to feel a little irritable now. After all, I didn't do anything wrong but Usagi-san's treating it as if he's caught me making out with another guy!

"What am _I_ mad about?" Yes this is definitely bad. His tone is way too low and scary for it to be good! "Do you have any idea what time it is? Or how worried I was? I even called that Sumi brat but he didn't know where you were. I thought something might have happened to you!"

I wish everyone would stop treating me like a kid who needs to have his hand held all the time. Even Nii-chan still treats me like I'm eight!

Yet Usagi-san shoots down all my irritation with a single, piercing look. Did I ever mention that he can be _really _scary? Like now, I think I can feel the waves of death flowing off of him!

"Why did you go see that guy? Do you like him or something?" he demands. Uh, Usagi-san, please don't drive so fast.

"A -are you jealous?" I ask. "I like Kusama-san. I can't leave him alone." Perhaps that was the wrong way to put it. I didn't mean it like that but he frowns as if I've just confessed my love for the guy.

"Enough!" he sighs, rubbing his fingers against his forehead in pain. "Just stop seeing that guy already!"

What the hell? I know Usagi-san is sort of possessive but he can't control my life. "But I only went with him because he sort of reminded me of you!" I yell. Stupid Usagi!

"…What?" Usagi-san stares at me. Now I really think he'll crash. Pay attention to the road, Usagi-san! The road!

"Well, he's not really like you but, well, it's that look he gets sometimes. You know, like he's unable to get something he really wants, or he's afraid of what will happen if he tries to get it. It sorta reminded me, kinda, about how you were Usagi-san when you liked Nii-chan."

I feel stupid

"So…so, when I saw that look on his face, I thought; 'maybe he's in pain like Usagi-san was' and then I couldn't really leave him alone 'cause if it was you I wouldn't…leave you…alone…" I trail away pathetically. Ah, I think I've just said something totally and completely embarrassing back there!

Usagi-san pulls over at the side of some road in some district I don't recognise. It's too dark to see even though the street lights create yellow pools of light.

"Misaki," I hear him call. I turn and find my lips currently engaged by his.

U - Usagi-san!" I pull back. Why does he always do this so suddenly?

Ah, but experience has told me that Usagi-san always gets his way with things like this, so I put up a little resistance, struggle and then submit to his kisses and his large hands running under my shirt.

I think these clothes will need to go into the wash again.

* * *

This was quite a long chapter, I think. In the next chapter though, we finally get Nowaki's POV. Please look forward to it!


	8. Lost Autumn winds

First off, a big thank you to everyone who reviewed. We've now reached half-way point!

* * *

**Lost autumn winds**

**- Nowaki - **

XX

I like Misaki-kun, I can tell from the way he fidgets and glances at you that's he's a good kid deep down. He's honest and considerate, it makes me wonder how he ended up with Usami-san. Even so, I hope that they can remain happy.

After he and Usami-san leaves, I return to the main room and glance at the stacks of cardboard boxes. There are lots of letters that I haven't even glanced at yet waiting on the table. Bills, notices from the hospital, a letter from Doctor Carter...

It's so silent here.

I haven't seen Hiro-san in weeks. I want to see him. I miss him, but I wonder if I'm a bother to him. If what Misaki-kun says is true then he's always around that professor. Even though I want to see him, I hold myself back. I wish that professor wasn't there all the time.

The books I borrowed from him are still stacked up in piles around my apartment. I wonder if I could use that as an excuse to see him. But then again the only place I can find him now is at the university and I don't know his timetable.

Very slowly, I think these tiny scars are turning into something serious.

I think it was presumptuous of me to expect to be welcomed back with open arms when I arrived back in Japan. Although I'm certain that I told him about America, it really was my fault for not contacting him in a year.

I should not have been so arrogant to assume that I could stand in the same place as Hiro-san just because I completed my training in a year instead of two. Since Hiro-san is incredible, he moves quickly and meets his goals one by one.

Although I want him to succeed, I also don't like it. It feels as if he's drifting further and further away from me whilst I struggle to catch up. I don't want to be left behind. I want - wanted, I should say - to be someone who could stand on equal footing with him. Despite the age difference, I wanted to be someone who would suit him. That was all.

As I prepare to turn in for the night, I notice the bag of unsent letters addressed to Hiro-san. Did I leave them out? I think about taking _them_ to the university. I'll show them to Hiro-san, declare my love, convince him somehow that I never meant to hurt him or leave him in the rain.

Look, Hiro-san, I wrote these for you. Three hundred and sixty five letters. One for every day of the year. Look at them, Hiro-san, I never forgot about you. There was not a single moment that I forgot about you.

Then he would blush, look away with embarrassment and mutter something to save his pride. I would hug him and tell him it's okay and somehow, somehow, through all the incomprehensible stuttering and the confusion, I would just hold on to him until he calmed down and told me he missed me too.

…Without realising it, I've been picturing something impossible, haven't I?

If I knew this was going to happen, I would never have gone to America. I want to go back and tell my past self that it would be a bad decision. I want to go back to that summer when we were eating peaches together. They were overripe and the juice kept dribbling out with every bite so our hands and mouths were sticky.

When Hiro-san finished his, he threw the pip away and complained about never knowing that eating a peach could be so difficult. He was so cute at that moment that I had the sudden urge to take his hand, our sticky fingers intertwining, and pull him into a kiss.

I just wanted to taste a peach flavoured Hiro-san. It was nice. Sweet and fruity but soft and familiar, like a warm peach with all of summer inside of it.

Then I wanted to taste strawberry flavoured Hiro-san and chocolate flavoured Hiro-san and a caramel cream flavoured Hiro-san. I would even consider cauliflower flavoured Hiro-san even though I don't really like cauliflower because, I reasoned, anything with Hiro-san in it had to taste good.

Of course, he just blushed and told me not to be an idiot. Then he mumbled something about how peach flavoured Nowaki was sorta, kinda, just a little, tiny bit nice as well.

I thought I would eat peaches every day for the rest of my life.

I want to go back to that time when we were caught in a summer storm. I wonder if Hiro-san remembers that; how we started sprinting and I took his hand and pulled him along until we reached my place.

I wonder if he remembers the way we messily peeled off each other's wet clothes as we kissed or how we somehow didn't manage to get to the bed and ended up making love right there on the floor of the front room.

Does he remember anything? Because I seem to have a startlingly detailed memory of everything over the past years. The way he, afterwards, accused me of being a pervert but didn't have the energy to explain why. The way he fell asleep using my arm as a pillow, his hair still wet, and wasn't able to stand without feeling dizzy the next morning.

I think, if I could go back to those days, that would be the best.

I wonder if he remembers any of that. Maybe these sort of things aren't important to him.

Ah, but it's no good. Memories alone can't really satisfy me. It's like that picture of Hiro-san sleeping that I snuck with me before leaving for America; though it's a comfort, it can't really compare to the real thing.

Sometimes I tell myself that if Hiro-san is happy with someone else then I should not be selfish but be happy _for _him. It's like that saying; if you love someone, let them go.

Except I can't let him go. I can't be selfless. A part of me still wants to possess all of Hiro-san, a part of me still doesn't want to let go even though I know I'll probably only hurt him.

That's wrong of me, isn't it?

I'm being inconsiderate. Even though we've broken up, I keep trying to be with him. I'm sure that will eventually become a bother for Hiro-san. I'm sure, eventually, he'll come to hate me for it. Deep down, I know that I'll never return these books, I know that I'll never show him these letters - all three hundred and sixty five of them - I know it's no good at all.

That's why I think I'll try to be selfless this time, even if it's hard for me. Since Hiro-san is the most important thing in the world for me, I should put his happiness above everything else, right? Yes, that's right, isn't it?

I swing the bag over my shoulder and walk to the kitchen. My mind feels completely empty when I take out a pan and put it on the stove, emptying all the letters into it.

I want Hiro-san to be happy, I tell myself. Even if it's not with me, if he's happy, that's okay, right? I don't want to tie myself to him, I don't want to drag him down.

Because, as long as Hiro-san is happy, I…

….As long as _he's_ happy…I….

….This is what being an adult is, isn't it? Being able to make sacrifices? Hiro-san always used to tell me that I was childish.

I find a box of matches in one of the cupboards. My fingers are trembling. One strike. Two. This match is no good. No, none of them are good, they break so easily. I'm on my fifth one before I can produce a flame.

Even though I know looking directly into a fire is no good, I stare at it anyway. It's like a little dancing woman in a red kimono like the ones at Matsuri. I really should have taken Hiro-san to more festivals like that, even if it was just to see him in a yukata.

But those kind of festivals are for summer and summer has long been over.

Just like summer, my relationship with Hiro-san is over too.

So I switch my gaze to the pan, throw in the match and watch all my letters to Hiro-san burn.

It's like a bonfire. The guys at the chemistry lab told me about these different powders you can add which makes the flame turn different colours. I wish I had them with me. Hiro-san would have liked them. I want to set off fireworks with Hiro-san, or maybe even just light some sparklers.

"No," a word escapes my lips.

It's burning so brightly, it makes my eyes water.

No, I realise. No, I don't want this! Selfless? Considerate? Self-sacrificing? I can't be like that when it comes to Hiro-san! I can't give him up like that!

I run to the tap and fill up a cup full of water. No, you shouldn't throw water on to an open fire! A cloth! A damp cloth!

I wring it and throw it over the pan, smothering the flames. I don't want this! I won't accept this! I know I'm being a child, I know Hiro-san will yell at me for being immature, but if being an adult means I have to give way for others, if it means I have to be realistic, if it means that I have to settle for second best because it's more reasonable than to chase dreams without any certainty, then I'd rather stay like a child!

Slowly, I take the damp cloth from the pan and wave the smoke away.

They're all black. They fall apart in my hands, leaving a sooty stain on my fingertips.

For some reason, I am totally calm. I can't think about anything except how quiet it is around me. Ah, is this what the end of a relationship sounds like? Absolutely nothing?

I want to eat peaches.

Even though my fingers are stained, I cover my eyes with a hand. Just what am I doing? What have I done?

* * *

It was a rather short chapter this time but it's Miyagi's turn next and his relationship with Shinobu and Hiroki. (Then it's Misaki meeting Hiroki once more.) Please look forward to it!


	9. Break the fragile Heart

A quick update this time. Thanks to everyone for their comments.

* * *

**Break the fragile heart**

**- Miyagi - **

XX

I snuff out my fifth cigarette and lean against the back of the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling when the door suddenly clicks open and my personal terrorist walks in.

"You're not at work?" he looks surprised to see me.

I pull myself up far enough to reach for an ashtray to snuff out my half-smoked cigarette. "I have the day off today. Kamijou's taking care of the office," I say as I grind it into the tray, probably with more force than necessary.

I really can't understand Kamijou sometimes. I know it's his natural defence mechanism to be flustered or annoyed to cover up his embarrassment, but he does it so often! I haven't seen him a lot lately but I doubt I would confront him about it though.

Shinobu's expression turns sour at the mention of Kamijou's name. He marches to the cabinet where his things are stored and pulls out a grey bag.

"What are you here for?"

"I just wanted to pick up some stuff I left here," he says defensively, as if it's a crime to come into the house, even though I was the one who gave him the spare key. I wonder if staying around my place was all the Dean's idea or if Shinobu had something to do with it.

My head turns to look at him curiously. "Don't you have school?"

"I'm going in a minute," he says, a little irritably, I might add. He's been in an irritable mood for some time. Aren't kids supposed to smile more?

Just when I think he has nothing more to say he suddenly looks at me and asks; "What do you see in that guy anyway?"

The question is so sudden and out of the blue that it takes a moment to register in my brain. All I can manage is a dumb sort of; "Huh?"

"He looks flakey. He doesn't seem like the kind of person you'd fall for."

Ah, he's talking about Kamijou.

"He doesn't have boobs, if that's what you mean."

His expression darkens at this whilst I try not to smile. Well, I _do_ like women.

I think I probably would be laughed at if I told anyone but, despite appearances, I consider myself an old-fashioned type. The 'let me pull out a chair for you, hold the door open for you' type. A guy who's easily suckered in just by the sight of a woman's tears.

What is it about cute, crying girls? Kamijou's no girl but even he -

Ah, but Shinobu keeps frowning. His glare can really spoil your concentration when you're tying to ponder life's many intricacies.

"I don't know. Don't be so concerned about it," I give up trying to think and reach for another cigarette. Goodbye, enlightenment!

"But it doesn't even look like you're interested," he continues to protest. Honestly, what makes him so adamant about me? What makes him so serious about me? Nothing like this has ever happened before. How am I supposed to deal with it?

"With Kamijou?" I mutter, searching for my lighter. "I don't know. I haven't seen him too often except at work when we're busy. Well, adult relationships are like that sometimes."

"You're being awfully casual about it," he mumbles, leaving traces of bitterness in the air.

It's infectious. When I reply; "Not everyone goes around spouting about love as passionately as you do," it comes out a little snappier than I intended.

"When do I ever do that?" he demands. "Besides, I don't do it to everyone, only to you!"

Why won't he stop? Only you, only you; it's the same thing over and over again. Only you, only you...

"Ah, you see, I was wondering about that," I say. "Well, why me? I mean, before I married your sister, we only met that one time. You can't really call something like that Fate."

He suddenly looks up, surprised. For a moment, his face is completely unguarded, completely honest. He looks like a little kid. Then it's over and he swiftly looks at the ground.

"You…don't remember?" he speaks tentatively. Remember what? "We met before that, remember?"

"No, when did we - "

The sound of the phone cuts through my question. I don't know if I'm annoyed by it or relieved, but I get up an answer it whilst Shinobu stares as though he's never seen a phone before.

"Hello? Oh, Kamijou, speak of the devil!" No pun intended there. Honest.

"Were you talking about me behind my back, professor?" Kamijou's voice cracks down the phone, washed over by intermittent static.

"What? How cruel! Here I was thinking what my dear Kamijou was doing all by himself and you go and accuse me of something like that!"

"Yeah right, you frivolous liar!" Kamijou's voice snaps sourly.

"So? What do you need?" I ask quickly before the force of Shinobu's stare can intensify.

There's a pause. He's probably fidgeting a little. Even though I'm his damn superior and he's _supposed _to rely on me, Kamijou's great, big, whopping pride doesn't allow him to ask for favours easily.

"Actually, I was wondering if you could give me a lift," he finally chokes out. "The other shipment came in earlier than expected and I'm the only one who can pick it up. There's a load of books, I think I'll need your car."

"The car again, huh?" I mumble thoughtfully, though there really isn't anything to think about. "The usual bookshop right? Okay, I'll be there soon."

"What was that?" Shinobu asks as I hang up.

"I need to go."

"You're meeting him? I thought he was at work."

"It is for work. I'm helping him with some books," I answer as I shrug on my coat and fish out the car keys.

"I'll go with you!" he suddenly offers. A bit too keenly for my liking. I can just imagine what sort of trouble will happen if Shinobu and Kamijou ride in the back of the car together, the back of _my _car, at that.

"Forget it, I'm not on a love cruise." I don't think I've ever been on a love cruise, actually. "It's work! Work! Besides, don't you have school?"

At this little reminder, he suddenly checks his watch and his eyes widen. For some reason, I end up wondering who he inherited those blue eyes from. The mother probably, I don't want to think of him growing up to look like the Dean. No, no thank you!

"Ah, I'll be late!" he gasps, suddenly swinging his bag over his shoulder wide enough to almost knock my head off.

"There's no choice, I guess. I'll give you a lift, okay?" I say as if we're taking part in a trade off.

"I can help you instead," he offers.

"School is more important," I reply, which is true anyway.

Amazingly, he doesn't argue with me. Small mercies, eh? Though it's not his first time riding with me, he waits for me to tell him to get in before throws his bag onto one of the seats, slides into the back, and straps himself in.

Ah, he can talk for ages about something he's passionate about but _now_ he's silent? Am I the only one feeling awkward here? It's driving me crazy!

"So, uh, Shinobu-chin, how's school?" I ask, feigning cheerfulness. Glancing at him in the rear view mirror, I see him staring out of the window.

"The usual," he sighs in that bored monotone, which usually means he's not interested in making conversation, or he's thinking about something else at the moment.

"Have you thought about what you're going to do after school?"

"I want to attend university, of course. Literature, probably," he replies in the same tone. Though I'm supposed to be paying attention to the road, I can't help but slip a glance back at him.

This muted kind of behaviour is worse than when he's being pushy and obstinate. I wish he was pushy and obstinate and demanding my attention, yelling at me to take him with me or else.

And my breath hitches when I realise that I don't know why.

XX

Our awkward conversation carries on back and forth until I finally drop him off. As I drive away, I suddenly remember that I never found out if we had ever met before that incident with those thugs.

It feels as if I should know, but I can't put my finger on it. Well, if I can't remember then it couldn't have been all that important.

Yet I wonder why it feels otherwise.

"What took you so long?" Kamijou has a hand on his hip, frowning impatiently, as I finally pull up outside the shop.

"Trouble with a terrorist," I shrug then, looking at the stack of boxes surrounding him, ask; "Is this all of them?"

"I just need to take them to university and then I'm done for the day," he nods. We divide the boxes between us and take it in turns hauling them into the boot. The people who pass along the road stare at us, probably wondering what the heck we're doing.

"Really? Wanna go out for drinks afterwards?" I ask hopefully. It's been so long since I've been alone with Kamijou, with exception of work of course, that I would like to spend some time catching up. Ah, who am I kidding? I just want a drinking buddy. Kamijou's a _great _drinking buddy when he's not depressed; he spills all sorts of embarrassing secrets.

Even so, we should probably spend more time together, right? Except, we're such busy people and work is much more important.

"Actually…" he struggles to ask me for a favour again. "Could you drop these off for me? There are some bookshops here I want to check out."

"Books again huh? Is this some weird fetish?" I smile and flick his nose, or I try to at least but he anticipates this and quickly steps back.

"You can refuse - "

I shake my head. "No, no, I'll do it. I've got nothing better to do. I expect you to pay me back though!"

"What do you want?" Kamijou looks as though he's about to step on a mine. Rightly so, I plan on extorting all I can from this little favour.

"Oh, I'll think of something," I reply enigmatically, because I know that he'll be thinking the worse if I do. "I'll think of something," I repeat as I fling my arms around him.

"Don't be so affectionate when you're not really in the mood!" he growls, batting me away. I don't know why this annoys me a little. He always used to bat me away whenever I teased him and I never thought twice about it. Why does it annoy me now?

"If I wasn't so affectionate you'd shrivel up and die. Trying to get you to show some emotion is apart from anger or annoyance is like trying to get blood from a rock."

The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. I already know, in half a second, that I really should not have said anything.

Kamijou bristles angrily and snaps, "I - I'm just honest about my feelings! Unlike the irresponsible liar you are!"

"Honest, that's a new one," I can't help but snort.

His temper flares but he manages to keep it under control and places a hand on his hip. "Are you going to take the books or not?"

It's slightly embarrassing to be bickering in public, especially since we're both adults who should know better. Trying to diffuse this situation, I snap back into playful mode "I'm taking them! Don't worry, Demon Kamijou!" I grin but this isn't enough to satisfy him.

"Miyagi," he sighs, suddenly looking very tired. My eyes are forced to the floor. I can't look at this tired Kamijou. "I can't tell if you're ever being sincere or not. Are you serious or just teasing me?"

"If I'm serious all the time I'll get wrinkles like you, Ka - mi - jou!"

"Miyagi!" he snaps angrily. "Honestly, I'm not a stupid mind-reader! I - " The anger suddenly drains from his face, replaced by this weird, muted behaviour. "...Nevermind," he sighs, shaking his head. "Forget it. Thanks for taking the books back."

I nod and return to the car. _I'm not a mind reader._ He's right. I know he's right, and yet I could return those sentiments tenfold. The one who never says anything, the one who keeps hiding his feelings to spare his pride is _you_, Kamijou.

XX

I want to go straight home but, as I finish dropping off the last of the boxes in our office, The Dean catches me in the hallway.

"Ah, Miyagi, how is Shinobu? He's not causing you problems is he?"

Of course he is, I want to reply. I want to say, what makes a guy believe that he's in love with a man seventeen years older than him? But I can't say that so I simply shake my head. "No, no he's fine. He's quite a…passionate young man."

Passionate is certainly one word you could use.

"I've been wondering if he plans to stay in Japan or return to Australia. Has he said anything to you?"

"Sorry sir?" I suddenly realise that he's been talking and I haven't been listening at all.

"What do you think?" he prompts.

"About what?" I, embarrassingly, am forced to ask.

He does not seem to mind, though. Ever since breaking up with Risako, the Dean has always been unusually nice to me.

"About Shinobu. Do you think he should go to a Japanese university or do you think it would be better for him to continue studying abroad?" He asks, keen to get my opinion on the matter, but I really don't have any advice to give.

"Uh, well, I suppose that's for him to decide."

He doesn't look too pleased with this answer as he sighs. All the little problems in his life have left deep wrinkles under his eyes and his son is helping to add to the collection. "I'm not a mind reader! If that boy would only tell me what he was thinking, I would not have these worries!"

His complaint strikes a chord with me. '_I'm not a mind reader_,' Kamijou said.

The Dean's offhand comment leaves me feeling sober. I wonder why it's so hard to talk. I mean, really talk. Outside the bookshop with Kamijou, in the car with Shinobu; I keep teasing and making pointless conversation in order to avoid the things that matter. It's sort of pathetic really, all this talking in circles.

Ahh, what am I thinking? I'm not a mind reader, how am _I_ supposed to know what to do?

* * *

Thanks for reading! All this is setting up for what happens next; a Misaki POV two part special. Hiroki and Shinobu get some time to talk and Usagi proves how much his logic fails. Please look forward to it!


	10. To pieces

Sorry for the last update but thank you to everyone who reviewed.

* * *

**To pieces**

**- Misaki - **

XX

The doorbell is ringing. It must be urgent because whoever is at the door is pressing it really hard and not stopping. I'm partly pissed off, partly worried as I hurry to answer it. I know Usagi-san won't since he's cooped up doing his work.

I reach the door but the ringing doesn't stop until I finally open it. "Hello - "

"BAKAHIKO!"

I clasp my hands over my ears to protect myself from that raging scream. As soon as I recover, I look up but Kamijou-sensei is already marching in, looking around wildly for Usagi-san. What's he doing here? What does he want in the early afternoon?

Quickly, I hurry after him, though in his anger he doesn't see me.

"Hey, Bakahiko, where the hell are you? Get down here and explain yourself!" he yells. Finally, his eyes light upon me.

I open my mouth to ask him what he thinks he's doing but he reaches out and grabs me, one arm snaking around my waist, the other holding both hands behind my back. W - What the hell? What is going on? Or did I just wake up in one of Usagi-san's twisted BL fantasy novels.

"Listen, Bakahiko!" Kamijou-sensei roars. I can feel his hands shaking as they hold me. "I'm giving you to the count of ten to get your butt down here before I _violate _your little boy-toy! One!"

"Ehhh?" I scream. This can't be real! This _definitely _has to be one of Usagi-san's BL novels. Only he could think up something this sick!

"Two!"

I can hear the door to Usagi-san's room fly open.

"Get your hands off of Misaki!"

In a flash, he's here, and before I know it I'm being wrenched from Kamijou's grip and into the safety of Usagi-san's arms. Safety? That's a word I never thought I would associate with Usagi-san.

"What do you want, Hiroki?" he glowers at Kamijou-sensei. I think that little trick of his put Usagi-san in a foul mood. I can _feel_ the waves of death coming from him!

Admirably, Kamijou-sensei is not scared by this. Perhaps he's grown used to it after years of knowing Usgai-san.

"What do _I_ want?" he spits back just as angrily. Then he shoves a small book into Usagi-san's face. I never noticed that he had it on him before. "I have had the displeasure of pursuing every one of your literary works, did you really think I wouldn't notice this piece of crap?" he asks, straining to reduce his voice to a level one.

I wriggle out of Usagi-san's grip and retreat to a safe distance. As I do, my eyes gloss over the thing in Kamijou-sensei's hand. It's a BL novel.

Please don't tell me, Usagi-san…you didn't…

Kamijou snaps the thing away. He's holding it between his thumb and forefinger as if he does not want to touch it any more than absolutely necessary.

"Listen, Akihiko, I could put up with the lewd crap you wrote about before! I could just about stand the total bastardisation of my character up until now but I won't stand for this!" he cries. "Is this some game to you? Do you want to broadcast my pain all across Japan?"

Even I can sort of understand his anger at this. It was really unreasonable, and really insensitive to boot, for Usagi-san to just go ahead and publish something like that without permission.

Usagi-san looks calmly from Kamijou-sensei's livid face to the copy of his book then back to Kamijou-sensei again. He draws a deep breath and sighs with exasperation. "That wasn't the idea." He's totally indifferent.

"Then what was the idea?" I can hear the cynicism just dripping out of that reply.

Usagi-san shrugs. "Well, the general consensus from my fans is that, though they enjoy the angst, they dislike the current pairing."

This time, Kamijou draws a long, shuddering breath. I'm beginning to have visions of the apocalypse right now.

"Akihiko…" he replies through gritted teeth, "you do realise that there's a reason why people call me Kamijou the devil, right? Because I'm thinking of the best way to send you to hell right now!"

"U - Usagi-san!" Those visions are getting more vivid!

"Shut up and listen, will you?" Usagi-san replies sharply. He takes out a cigarette and lights it, for a brief moment just watching the smoke trail into the air. "Generally, when something bad happens, people go to others for advice, right?"

"…Yes, so?"

"Well, the more advice the better and it's good to get a lot of different opinions on the subject," he explains. "So I thought that the general Japanese public would be good. If such a wide fan base with such varied tastes are generally saying 'I don't like this pairing!' doesn't that say something to you?"

For a moment, both Kamijou-sensei and I are speechless. The only sound, aside from the birds twittering outside, is the sound of Uagi-san's BL novel falling out of Kamijou-sensei's hand and limply hitting the floor.

I want to dig a hole in the floor and hide. Usagi-san, why does your logic fail every time?

I think this declaration was a little bit too much for Kamijou-sensei to handle because he stumbles back, his legs hitting the feet of the couch and falls into one of the seats. He bows his head, slumping. I don't think this can be good.

I was right. This is not good at all.

Just when I think Kamijou-sensei is contemplating suicide, he suddenly throws his head back and explodes into laughter; loud, gasping fits of hysterics. I've never seen Kamijou-sensei laugh before, but the way he's doing it now sort of scares me.

"So _that's_ it!" he pushes back his hair with a hand, gasping for air between his laughter. "God, you crack me up, Bakahiko! You're so damn backwards! This is hilarious! This is really hilarious!"

I back away. Slowly.

Apparently, this behaviour is not normal for Kamijou-sensei because Usagi-san is looking pretty unnerved too. His eyes soften and he stretches a hand to pat his head.

Kamijou-sensei bats him away but he does not stop laughing. I'm afraid that he'll die if he doesn't stop soon but I also don't want to get too close to him when he's in hysterics so I make up any excuse to quickly flee the house as soon as possible. As soon as I excuse myself, I make a dash for the door to sanity.

XX

Once again I've rushed out without remembering to bring any money. As I walk aimlessly around the neighbourhood, I sigh and wonder how long I have to wait before I can safely crawl back to Usagi-san's place.

Honestly, although Kamijou-sensei can be intolerable, I wonder if he'll be okay. It looked as though he was seriously losing it back then.

However, I find I don't really have time to wonder about my literature teacher's mental well-being because I can feel the presence of people, several people in fact, rather close behind me.

"Hey!" someone calls me from behind. Out of habit I turn around to see who it is…only to find myself backed into a corner facing several rather unpleasant looking men.

"You look like you've got something on you."

Ah, I see, these people are the kind Usagi-san hates the most.

"N - not really! I'm dirt poor actually!" I reply, waving my hands about innocently. Obviously, they don't believe me since I feel a hand grab my shoulder and slam me into the wall. Damn, that hurts! Why do people like this operate during the middle of the day? It makes no sense!

"No really! I might get even evicted any one of these days!" I try to reason with them again, which isn't exactly a lie because who knows what Usagi-san's whims will lead him to do.

Just as I think they're going to show no mercy and tip me upside down to search me - I really hate being this height - my ears pick up on yet another person shuffling behind us.

"Hey!" someone suddenly yells from behind. "Trying to rob someone in broad daylight! Are you stupid or something?"

A boy is standing there, he looks about my age, scowling challengingly at the group of men.

"Who the hell are you?" they growl. Suddenly, I am forgotten and all their attention turns to this strange boy.

The boy meets them glare for glare without showing any signs of fear. "Why don't you tell me who you are? Or better yet tell the cops, I already called them," he lifts his phone to show them. The bright screen has the police's number on it.

"Damn brat!" one of the men snarls and charge at him. I want to cry out but my voice hitches in my throat.

In a flash, the boy is thrown against a wall, his wrist is caught between the man's hand and the hard brick and I can tell from that grimace of pain that it's probably been squeezed painfully, nails digging into skin, grinding flesh into the brick.

The boy grits his teeth and refuses to cry out in pain. I watch on, stunned. I know I should help but I'm too shocked to move.

"What are you doing? Let's get out of here already!" one of his friends taps the man.

Finally, he lets go of the boy and they run away, pushing past the people in their way as they run. I turn my attention back to my saviour, who has stopped looking annoyed and only wears an expression of boredom on his face now.

"A - are you okay? I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

"What are you apologising for? You didn't do anything wrong," he stoops, picking up his bag.

"Yes but because of me…ah, thank you anyway. Oh, but you're hurt!" I notice the nasty red mark on his left wrist. It looks painful.

"It's nothing," he turns to leave but I grab him by his good arm.

"At least let me bandage that up for you! My place isn't far from here. I'm Takahashi Misaki by the way, and thanks again for your help!" I gush. Nii-chan always said one good turn deserves another.

"Takatsuki Shinobu," he mutters. It takes me a while to realise that he's given me a name. I smile in a, hopefully, warm manner and invite him to follow me.

We walk in silence. He doesn't seem the talkative type so I take it upon myself to strike up a conversation. He can't be worse than Usagi-san, surely. "I - it sure was lucky for me that you were around," I say, laughing.

He shrugs without much care. "I guess. I was just looking for someone."

"A friend?" I ask.

"My rival in love," he replies without any hesitation.

"Ah, I see," I nod. It must be nice to have _normal_, romance troubles. "So you're in a spat over the same girl then."

"Guy," he corrects me. What? Why is it that, ever since I met Usagi-san, everyone I meet seems to be from this AU country called Gaypan? "He's thirty-five years old," he adds. Seriously!? Thirty-five?

Wait, this guy looks about my age and if Usagi-san is ten years older than me and he's twenty-eight then this guy must be ten…fifteen…at least sixteen or seventeen years older than him! Is that usual? Heck, is telling someone you just met all of this even considered normal?

"Takatsuki-kun," I begin, though I'm not exactly sure how to go about this.

"Shinobu is fine," he says bluntly.

"Shinobu-kun," I correct myself, "is this something you should be telling someone you just met?"

Shinobu-kun just shrugs. "It's fine, isn't it?" he seems to have a permanent frown on his face. "Because you're a stranger I don't have to care about what you think, and if we do ever grow closer or something then you won't judge me because you'd be my friend, so it's okay," he says simply.

That isn't the kind of logic a normal person would use.

"Ah, I see," I grin and try to hide the fact that I'm sweating. "It'd be nice to be friends with you, Shinobu-kun."

"Then it's settled," he replies automatically.

I think I manage a sort of stupid "Eh?" sound because that's about all that my brain can process at this time.

"We're friends," he declares.

"Just like that!?"

People on the street turn round to stare as I yell and I have to clamp my hands over my mouth in order to stop anymore violent attacks of disbelief from escaping.

Oh, why is it that everyone I meet fails to be normal? Except maybe Kusama-san. Oh, Kusama-san you are my one pillar of normalcy in this crazy world Usagi-san has warped me into! No wait, if Kusama-san was once going out with Kamijou-sensei then he can't really be normal either! I've been tricked this whole time! Tricked!

Shinobu-kun marks me with an intense stare. "Is there a problem?" his gaze is crippling and I shrink back. It's not an unfriendly glare exactly, it's just that his eyes are so…forceful, I suppose, it feels like I'm withering every time he looks at me like that.

"N - No!" I stutter, quickly changing the subject. "Um, we should probably get you bandaged up," I say and he nods.

I think I can feel myself breathing a sigh of relief when I finally manage to strike up a semi-normal conversation until we reach Usagi-san's apartment.

Suddenly, Shinobu-kun stops, staring up at the condo where Usagi-san lives with a critical eye. He makes a vague 'hmmm' sound under his breath, which makes my nerves prickle. Is something wrong? I know this neighbourhood is full of rich snobs but…

"This is an expensive neighbourhood. I thought you said that you were dirt poor," he says, returning that intense gaze to me.

I laugh a little. Oh, so _that _was all! "Well I do live here but I don't pay the rent with money. I do chores for my landlord instead."

He accepts this explanation and we hurry into the building, taking the lift all the way up to Usagi-san's floor.

I always have a spare key so I don't bother knocking. Instead I let Shinobu-kun and myself in, leading him into the main room. I hope Kamijou-sensei has calmed down by now…and hasn't broken anything expensive.

"Usagi - I mean, Usami-san - sorry to interrupt," I change the way I call him in front of Shinobu-kun. I'm sure if I called him Usagi-san, Shinobu-kun would just probe into why I'm calling my landlord with such a cutesy nickname. Argh! It wasn't my fault! It was Nii-chan! It was all Nii-chan's fault!

"You!"

Shinobu-kun's sudden outburst startles me enough to make me jump. So does Kamijou-sensei. He jumps to his feet and comes round the side of the couch, staring at Shinobu-kun in disbelief.

"Takatsuki! Are you _stalking_ me?"

* * *

Misaki chapter part two coming up, after which we're_ finally_ back to Hiroki!


	11. Yet the Rain sings

A very short chapter this time but hopefully enjoyble too. A big thanks as usual to everyone who reviewed.

* * *

**Yet the rain sings**

**- Misaki -**

XX

After managing to bandage up Shinobu-kun, I quickly retreat to the safety of the kitchen. Thankfully, we've put both Shinobu-kun and Kamijou-sensei in another room but I'm not sure how safe it would be to leave them alone for too long. The last I saw, they were glaring daggers at each other.

"So he saved you, huh?" Usagi-san lights a cigarette and deeply inhales. I thought I told him to cut down!

"Yeah, I was in a really big pinch that time," I reply, staring at those cigarettes.

He catches and follows the line of my gaze to his lit cigarette. Taking an ashtray from the counter, obediently for once, he snuffs out the half smoked cigarette…only to light another one. Now what was the point of that?

"Hmmm? So I guess I should thank him, huh?"

"I guess so." Put it out, damn it! Put it out! Ever head of passive smoking, Usagi-san? "I wonder how Shinobu-kun and Kamijou-sensei know each other though."

"Don't know," Usagi-san shrugs simply. Jeez, he could take a little more interest in what's going on around him, particularly when his questionably crazy friend with violent tendencies - A.K.A Kamijou-sensei - is involved.

Ah, but no, Usagi-san is never interested in anything for too long. Honestly, he has the attention span of a child! I decide not to give him the lecture about smoking today in favour of stacking chocolates onto a plate for our 'guests.' If I don't hurry, who knows what they'll do to each other!

"You don't like me very much, do you, Takatsuki?" I overhear Kamijou-sensei talking as I approach the room.

"It's not a matter of like or dislike. You're my rival," Shinobu-kun replies.

Ehhh? The rival Shinobu-kun was talking about was Kamijou-sensei? I know I shouldn't eavesdrop but I can't help but be a little curious. If I don't listen for too long it's okay, right?

"I don't think you're much of a threat though," he continues.

"…Why thank you, Takatsuki."

Shinobu-kun then asks; "What do you like about Miyagi?"

Miyagi?! As in _that_ Miyagi? No way! Well, Shinobu-kun did say the guy was seriously old.

The sound of something clattering almost makes me jump. Fortunately, I think it's just Shinobu-kun getting to his feet because everything appears to be calm.

"I know you don't really love him! You're always so nonchalant about him. If that's the case you should just let him go and give him to me!" he yells.

"Listen, Takatsuki, don't you think that's something you should talk to Miyagi about?" Kamijou-sensei is trying to reasonable. This is probably a first for him.

"Why? You're involved too, aren't you?"

"So what do _you_ like about Miyagi?"

"Everything!" he shouts in an instant. The kid is so full of passion! I could never say anything like that about Usagi-san…maybe because there isn't really anything good about that lewd, molesting, perverted novelist.

"Everything huh?" the tone of Kamijou-sensei's voice goes from sceptical to amused. I'm sure it must annoy Shinobu-kun a lot.

"Yes, everything!" he repeats and I'm amazed by such conviction.

Kamijou-sensei, however, is not. "Isn't that just the same as saying 'nothing in particular'?" he snorts. "Look, I don't know what Miyagi's thinking but don't get me involved. I have enough headaches as it is."

"How can you say that?" Shinobu-kun demands. "If you're with him then of course you'll be naturally involved!"

"Takatsuki, when you're an adult…"

"I'm sick of hearing people say that! I'm sick of people saying using that as an excuse for their cowardice! Things like 'There's no helping it. We're both adults' or 'Be reasonable, you're an adult' or 'You must understand, you're an adult after all' I hate things like that!"

"I guess you can say that because you're still a kid."

Even though there's silence, I can imagine Shinobu glaring at Kamijou-sensei. When the silence finally break, it's Kamijou-sensei who speaks.

"You know, about Miyagi, I don't - "

"Um, Shinobu-kun, Kamijou-sensei, I brought snacks," I decide to interrupt before things get messy. Only, suddenly Shinobu-kun is storming out of the room. "Shinobu-kun?" I leave the chocolate with Kamijou-sensei and hurry after him.

"Shinobu-kun, where are you going?"

"What do you think Misaki?" he corners me as we reach the outside of Usagi's apartment, though we're still inside the condo as a whole.

"What do I think? What do I think about what?"

His eyes narrow. "Could you be in a relationship with someone you didn't love?"

"Well, I…" I try to think about Usagi-san. I think about Sumi-sempai who Usagi-san keeps insisting has the hots for me, even though it's totally ridiculous. I try to picture myself in a relationship with Sumi-sempai but it's too embarrassing and I don't like the idea anyway.

Forgive me Sumi-sempai for using your image in such a way!

"I guess I couldn't," I reply, though I'm sure it lacks the kind of conviction Shinobu-kun has.

"I don't understand how adults can do it! How can they be with someone they don't really love with all their heart?" he growls to himself. It's like a puzzle he can't solve no matter how hard he tries.

"Relationships don't always require love. Sometimes loneliness, fear and dependency is all that is needed to drive two people together."

"Usagi-san!" I turn back to see Usagi-san leaning against the doorway, another cigarette hanging between his lips.

Shinobu-kun frowns at him. "That's wrong. There's no way a relationship like that can be happy, don't you think?" he states as if it's so obvious anyone should be able to see it.

Usagi-san looks thoughtful, the way he looks when he's having a meeting with Aikawa-san. "I'd like to think so too, though it's a little idealistic," he finally replies.

It seems Shinobu-kun doesn't like that answer because he shouts back; "It's not, it's reality! Look!"

Suddenly, he grabs Usagi-san by the collar. Does he want to strangle him? No, he's stepping forward, he lifts himself onto his toes and presses his lips against Usagi-san's. Ahhh! Shinobu-kun what the hell are you doing? What the hell are you thinking kissing Usagi-san like that!?

As suddenly as the kiss came, Shinobu-kun pulls back looking pleased with himself. "See? All that time whilst I was kissing you I could only think how disgusting it was!" he declares proudly. Why should he be proud of something like _that_?

"Gee, thanks," Usagi-san mutters dryly. Shinobu-kun sure can be blunt.

"It's obvious I would think that way if I wasn't in love. So really the only person I would be happy kissing is the one I love. The only person I would be happy with is the person I love too!"

"W - well, I wish you luck anyway. I'm on your side, Shinobu-kun," I give him a thumbs up even though I'm still slightly shocked from that kiss. Honestly, I really am on his side. I also want Kusama-san to be happy too so I'll definitely support Shinobu-kun!

Just, please, don't kiss Usagi-san again. Not that I'm jealous or anything! No, no no! It's just scary, that's all.

He brightens a little at this. Ah, that's good. Shinobu-kun looks much better with a smile. "Thanks. I'll see you again, Misaki!"

As soon as he's out of sight I turn back to Usagi-san. Honestly, he could be a little bit more upset about that kiss. Stupid Usagi-san, he has no shame, does he?

I would berate him but right now there are more important things at hand.

"Oh, that's right!"

I suddenly remember that I still have my usual bag with me and that in said bag is something which belongs to Kusama-san. Or to Kamijou-sensei if you prefer. I can feel myself smiling. This is such a great opportunity.

"The letter, Usagi-san, the letter!" I turn to him. My heart is pounding with excitement. Oh, I think I'm going to burst! "I accidentally took one of Kusama-san's letters to Kamijou-sensei with me that other time!"

"So you've resorted to petty theft." He does not look impressed.

"That's not it! The point is, if we show it to Kamijou-sensei, I'm sure he'll be touched and return to Kusama-san! Then Shinobu-kun can be with Miyagi-sensei and everything will work out. Happy ending, right?" I cry. Anticipation wells up in my chest. Yes, I'm sure that everything will work out if we do that!

"You're so cute," Usagi-san smiles in that creepy 'I want to do you now' way. Well sorry, Usagi-san, this is more important! He ruffles my hair as I push aside all my textbooks.

Eh? That's strange. I would swear…

"It's not here!" Throwing down my bag, I kneel down and begin tipping out its contents. Books, pads, pens, but no letter. I never took it out; it has to be here!

"Oh," Usagi-san squats besides me, still smoking. "I think I remember now. If you're talking about that letter. I already sent it."

"You went through my things?" I cry incredulously. Usagi-san has no sense of privacy!

"I didn't go through them. Your bag was open and some of the books had fallen out. When I tried to put them back in I noticed the letter," he explains calmly. "It had Hiroki's name on it so I sent it to his new address."

"Even so you shouldn't - Wait, what do you mean you sent it?!" I must be screaming but what else am I supposed to do? The letter! Kusama-san's hopes! No wait, maybe this will actually work out for the best. All Kamijou-sensei has to do is read it.

"He should get it by the time he goes home," Usagi-san muses. I wish he would understand the gravity of what he has done a little better. "Now, let's clear Hiroki out so we can have the place to ourselves, shall we?" he nips at my earlobe.

Ugh, I can tell he's thinking about doing perverted things with - no, _to_ - me.

I can barely stifle a sigh. Usagi-san really is hopeless. But I guess that's why I can't leave him alone.

* * *

This was the last Misaki chapter, though certainly not the last we'll see of Misaki. It's Hiroki's turn next, followed by another Nowaki chapter. Please look forward to it!


	12. Let there be Lightning

Thank you everyone for reviewing. Finally, Hiroki ets his own chapter again.

* * *

**Let there be lightning**

**- Hiroki - **

XX

Who was it that said the strangest things are at your very own doorstep?

For instance, the letter I found when I returned from Akihiko's apartment. It was from Nowaki. At first I thought it was odd that he knew my new address but when I opened it and realised just what it was about my confusion doubled.

A letter about his time in America. It looked as though he had written it whilst he was still in America and it was definitely Nowaki's handwriting but he told me that he never sent any letters, he _apologised_ for it. My theory that there had been some freak accident at the post office had been totally shot down.

Then it hit me. I don't know why I didn't realise it straight away but if Nowaki sent me a letter during his stay in America then it would have been addressed to my old apartment. I looked at the envelope and, sure enough, my new address had been typed, printed and stuck on top. Does Nowaki even own a computer?

There was no airmail stamp either. The postage was paid in Japanese stamps. It was sent from somewhere in Japan. It pissed me off! What the hell is he trying to pull anyway? Surely, he doesn't think I'm stupid enough to fall for something like that! What is he trying to do? What is he thinking?

I wish I knew. I wish I could talk to him again.

XX

By the middle of the week, I feel as if I'm running out of steam. Being cramped in this too-small office is trying on my patience. It's a mess. Books and paper everywhere. I keep telling the Dean we need a bigger office.

"Sorry about all this, Kamijou," Miyagi's suddenly apologises as we're in the middle of sorting out the reference material for the next few classes.

This suddenness catches me by surprise. I wonder what he's apologising for. Has he been sneaking food out of my bento box and replacing it with that burnt cabbage stuff he gets from the director's brat?

He might be, but that's not what he apologises for. "It's Shinobu-chin," he explains, "I know he can be quite difficult."

Ah, I see, that's it. Maybe he heard about how I was _stalked _all the way to Akihiko's place. Despite the fact that I stick by my conviction when I say the kid's definitely not completely right in the head, I understand. Brats will be brats after all. It's a fact of life that I have come to accept.

"It's okay, Professor," I laugh, or try to anyway, "besides, you've been spending a lot of time with the kid. Keep a rein on him!"

Miyagi laughs uncomfortably and begins to fidget in his chair. He busies himself with the papers to hide his unease but this time I continue to press him about it. An uncertain Miyagi? This happens so rarely that I would be a fool to just let it go. Consider it pay-back for all the times he's tormented me.

"Well," he clears his throat, "Shinobu-chin's a good kid really. I mean, his cooking sucks and he seems to have a strange fascination with cabbage but he's not all the bad."

"Shinobu-chin? Cabbage?" I can't help but laugh a little. I need something to laugh at these days, or _someone_ even. "That doesn't sound very romantic."

I keep poking at him for more information causing him to redden just a bit. I'm sure he'll have his revenge so I'm making every effort to cause as much discomfort as possible.

"So?" I mercilessly continue. "Don't tell me you're falling for the boy. That can't be legal. Oh, but don't worry, I'm sure that the Dean will only curse you on his death bed if he finds out!"

This causes Miyagi to sink further into the sea of paper. What? I was just poking fun at him but don't tell me he's actually serious about the brat!

"Ah, no," he mumbles as though he can read my thoughts. "It's not that I'm in _love_ with him or anything and I think I'm always looking annoyed whenever he's around it just that, well, he's passionate but…he's not such a bad kid…" he trails away, quickly turning his gaze to the papers that I'm sure he's not reading.

"Ah, the affections of youth are ever fickle!" I sigh melodramatically, purposefully parroting the lines Miyagi spouted to me not so long ago.

"You're no fun, Kamijou," he replied sourly.

The grin probably plastered to my face must be a big give away. "Don't blame me!" I retort. "Besides, it's your fault since you're such a pervert. Even with me, you - "

I stop suddenly because I realise that I've hit a mine. We've _both_ hit a mine. How could we have been this stupid? Without realising it, we've been spinning towards this demise all along.

I stare at him as if I can't believe what I've been saying. He stares back too, shocked. We must be idiots.

This conversation, this sort of talk, isn't the kind of thing you discuss with your partner, is it? You don't have a friendly chat about the other's potential love interest like this. At least, not without some jealousy and a murderous gleam in your eyes.

Miyagi realises this too. Slowly, he rises and comes to my desk. He puts a hand on my shoulder and lifts my chin so that I'm staring directly into his eyes.

My heart is pounding, but it's not with anticipation. I don't really know what it is.

He looks at me with all seriousness and leans down to place his lips near my ear. His breath is clearer than usual. Has he been smoking less?

"Kiss me, Kamijou," he orders, looking at me intently.

Like a soldier given a mission, I press a hand against his face and slowly lean forward. Our lips brush together for a second. I pull back. He's not moving at all. A second passes and then I press my lips against his, hard enough as if I want to crush him. My tongue finds a way into his mouth, a familiar mouth, flicks against the roof of his mouth, withdraws.

I don't think I've closed my eyes at any time during this but when he moves away I find it's already too late.

"What was that for?" I ask, pretending to be particularly unconcerned, although in truth I'm shaken. No, it's not the kiss that's affecting me like this. Miyagi just shrugs.

Though neither of us say anything, we both understand, we know what this means. Like adults we appreciate that some things just happen, they just turn out this way; it's not something that you can change, there's no helping it really. Only children cry and cling on to something that's already gone. It's just one of those things you have to accept.

In the distance, I think I hear a piano. Just a piano. It's playing Satie's Gymnopedie at a slow, solemn tempo. Then it breaks into Chopin's Raindrop Prelude; light and melancholic, growing darker, growing lighter, then fading away…

XX

Just like that, our relationship is over. Pathetically fading away without ceremony, as imperceptibly as the disappearing summer. Before you realise it's dying, it's already gone without a trace. No big end, no line to separate when we were 'together' from when we stopped. We just sort of drifted sleepily into the land of 'no longer a couple.'

A relationship that no one will bother fighting for is better left to die, right?

I don't know what I prefer; going out with a bang or just quietly fading away. I suppose it's sort of ironic when you consider my record.

Miyagi touches my shoulder and I flinch.

He sighs and says, "That's what I don't like about you, Kamijou."

"Well, I'm sorry for being who I am," I snap.

He sighs again. "It's not my fault really. You didn't really love me to begin with."

I refrain from saying that he should have known. I don't tell him 'but you didn't really love me either.' It makes me wonder why we ever got involved. Because I was lonely? Because he wanted someone to comfort? Because I thought a relationship where we knew how to keep each other at a distance would be better for us both?

Despite this, I don't hate Miyagi. I still think that he is an excellent professor, if a little crazy. Ah well, it's just one of those things. We blame it on an uncharacteristic fit of passion and move on.

Even if it is lonely.

This is for the best, right? Since I wasn't too fussed about holding on. I don't really know what I want anymore. It's a little pathetic; Kamijou Hiroki, twenty-eight years old, and I don't even know what I'm aiming for. It's that high school mid-teen crisis all over again, except I'm not a teen, I'm twenty-eight.

XX

I add two spoons of sugar to my coffee as I mull over my now non-existent relationship with both Miyagi and Nowaki. I don't have a sweet tooth but this stuff is really bitter. Since I'm avoiding all the coffee shops and family restaurants that I used to go to with Nowaki, the choice of places that I can frequent has grown slim.

I got a call from Akihiko about him. Why the hell Akihiko's been hanging around Nowaki, I'll never know. Neither do I care.

He simply called me to bitch and moan about how his little boy-toy has been spending too much time with Nowaki, as if I care what the hell they're doing. They can go screw each other for all I care. Well, if they did _that,_ I suppose I would care…

"Just get back together with him already! I don't want Misaki sucked in by that guy and my readers are complaining about the latest pairing," Akihiko's voice crackled down the phone.

"Screw you, Akihiko! Since when did I give you permission to broadcast my life in every library and book shop across Japan?"

"You're impossible! Why can't you just lower that pride of yours a little and go see him? Or do you prefer that university professor you were dating?"

I don't have an answer to give him. The truth is, I do miss Nowaki a little, but I don't want it just to be because I'm in the rebound stage of my life. Dumped Nowaki, dumped by Miyagi - though it was a consensual thing - and left spinning and trying to cling on to the closest person I can reach. No, that's too pathetic.

Akihiko is wrong though. It's not my pride that's stopping me from seeing him, in fact my curiosity over that letter almost makes me want to go. Yet I'm afraid that he'll sweep me up again, make my head and heart spin and, before I can recover, drop me somewhere and disappear.

We're both adults so we know that these things happen. It's not like people stay together forever. It's not as if there's a special someone out there just for you.

The coffee still tastes black even though I'm pretty sure there are at least five lumps in there now. Despite the awfulness of the coffee, I think I might come to this place regularly - I just won't buy the coffee.

The atmosphere is cozy, the lights are always dim and warm, glowing orange like lots of tiny sunsets. All the tables and chairs are mahogany so there's always a thin red glow as the light catches the wood.

Even though the place is small, there's a certain ambience that agrees with me. They're playing Chopin's Raindrop Prelude on the overhead system. It puts me in mind of the end of summer and fireworks and stupid tribal girls dreading the end of the summer solstice.

It makes me think of Nowaki, topless, his hair all damp and skin shining with sweat.

"_Don__'__t hug me, idiot. You__'__re all sticky! Take a shower!__"_

"_If I__'__m sticky, I__'__ll just stick to Hiro-san.__"_

"_That__'__s gross! Take a shower dammit!__"_

"_Take one with me. Because we need to get unstuck, so Hiro-san has to take one with me.__"_

I wonder why these memories are all so bitter, more bitter than this cup of crap they call coffee.

I get up because I need more sugar if I'm going to drink this stuff. My chair scrapes back against the wooden floor and I turn around to get some sugar packets from the counter…

…Only to see Nowaki's surprised face.

* * *

Not much of a cliff hanger, I know but next it's Nowaki and many things happen!


	13. Let there be Thunder

Thank you to all my reviewers. It's Nowaki's turn now.

* * *

**Let there be thunder**

**- Nowaki -**

XX

The day after I burned the letters, the day after I was supposed to cut off all ties from Hiro-san was the day I realised I could probably never let go.

That was the day I thought I was being tested.

The letter from Doctor Carter, which I had ignored before, contained a plane ticket to America.

_Come study with me again._

Yet now, the fact that Hiro-san is here, the fact that we're sitting across from each other with only a table and two cups of coffee in between makes me unbearably happy.

I carefully set my bag aside and settle into my chair. Hiro-san gave me that bag so I always treat it delicately. We share tense pleasantries - How are you? Are you eating well? Long time no see, right? - as if we're old friends just catching up. Even though he frowns and doesn't really look at me, he's pleasant enough.

I don't really like it.

At one time, I thought that the worst thing that could possibly happen to me would be for Hiro-san to come to hate me. However, now I would prefer to be hated by him rather than be treated so indifferently. As if I mean nothing.

I want to touch him. I want to hold him. It's just a table. It's just a table with a glass of flowers and two cups of coffee; that's all that's separating us and yet I'm afraid that if I reach out now he won't take my hand. I'm afraid.

"You know, I…I broke up with Miyagi," he speaks tentatively, unsure if he should probably be telling me this. I'm glad he does though. With just this little piece of knowledge, my heart soars.

"I - I see," I wear a controlled smile, trying to hide just how happy I really am.

Hiro-san looks uncomfortable and quickly changes the subject. "By the way, Nowaki, I heard from Akihiko that you've been hanging around Takahashi lately," he says as though it's just small talk we're making.

"Hanging around," I try to smile despite the fact that he's crushing me. "Well, we talk sometimes. He's a good listener."

This makes Hiro-san flinch. Maybe it is because he remembers that he never usually pays much attention to what I have to say. If there was one thing that I would want to change about Hiro-san, it's that I wish he would take what I say more earnestly.

"I got a letter," he suddenly says, as if this is very important. "It was from you."

What? I never sent Hiro-san any letters. How could I when I don't even know his address? "But I never sent you anything, Hiro-san."

This makes him frown a little. Every slight twitch and flicker that passes his face makes my heart leap and plunge accordingly. What is he going to say now?

"I know you don't usually lie," he says. "I usually trust you when you say these things but…I don't know. I don't know what you were thinking when you sent me that letter. Do you think I'm stupid? That I wouldn't notice that there was no airmail sign or that the stamps weren't American?"

He suddenly glares at me, his eyes wavering as he struggles to keep his anger consistent, to not let any other emotion but anger invade his thoughts.

I really don't know what's going on now, but I'm sure this is just one big misunderstanding. "I told you, I didn't send you anything!"

"Like you told me about going to America?" he retorts.

"I did tell you!" My hand slams against the table, making the coffee cups jump and, for a moment, all eyes swivel round to stare at us. I blush and look away, ashamed of my sudden outburst.

Hiro-san also swiftly averts his eyes to his coffee. "Nowaki," his voice is totally serious. It's scaring me a little. He looks away, at the little glass of flowers decorating the table. "...I don't know."

He doesn't say this with hate or scorn, he doesn't say it because he resents me, but it's another hard blow anyway.

Does he care enough about me to resent me? I feel my whole body stiffen as I freeze over. His face and his voice, his very presence is burning me.

I shift uncomfortably, unable to take this heat, this cold, yet all this talk about America reminds me about one very important thing that I have to tell him.

"Um, Hiro-san…"

If I had one complaint about Hiro-san, it would be that I wish he would take what I say more earnestly. Yet now, when I have his undivided attention, I find that I cannot speak. Rather, there is too much that I want to say that I don't know where to begin.

My mouth keeps moving, opening and closing like a fish but nothing is coming out. My heart is going too fast. I think I might die. What do I say now?

Then Hiro-san's phone suddenly rings. I think I know what I want to say now, but Hiro-san already has his phone pressed to his ear. I can see his expression turn to one of surprise.

"Miyagi? What's wrong?"

I can tell that I'm frowning now, no _glowering_ probably, at the phone.

"What?" he asks, completely engaged in his phone call to his co-worker. "Is it important? Eh? Ah…Well, I'll be there right away," he promises and hangs up, rising to his feet at the same time. "I've got to go," he says.

I've got to go. Go to him. Why? They're finished, aren't they? I don't think that Miyagi person even loved Hiro-san. It makes me angry. If he had loved Hiro-san with everything above everything else, if he had ever treasured Hiro-san as much as I do...

"Wait a minute!" I call out to him but I know it's no use; he's already dashing out of the coffee shop, a look of worry on his face.

Rather than indifference, rather than apathy, I would rather he hated me than felt nothing at all.

I remain in the coffee shop alone, brooding over my now cold coffee. Outside it's miserable and grey and raining quite hard.

Oh no, Hiro-san didn't bring an umbrella, he's going to get wet. I hope he doesn't catch a cold. If he does, will that Miyagi person take care of him? Will anyone stay with him until he gets better?

I don't like this rain; it's making me restless. I wanted to grab him and force him to stay, even if it was against his will.

The grey rain pounds against the windows; I can see flashes of silver between the swaying tree branches. A steadily pounding rhythm works its way over the music trickling out from the overhead system. What is it they're playing? I'm not familiar with music so I don't really know.

Then I suddenly stand. It's as if I've been given an electric shock. I don't know why, I can't even explain it to myself, but I feel as if something dreadful is going to happen if I don't act soon. After paying for my coffee as quickly as possible - I don't bother with the change - I step outside, open up my umbrella and run through the rain.

Hiro-san, I want to see you. I want to talk to you. I don't want to let go!

XX

As I follow the trail of water along the familiar corridors, I think I might be sick. Butterflies flutter around my stomach. I remember the last time I followed Hiro-san's wet trail to his office.

That professor he works with runs past me. He doesn't even see me; he's in such a hurry to get somewhere that I go by completely unnoticed.

I find Hiro-san in his office, gathering books for another lesson.

"Hiro-san!" I barge in just as I did that day. "Hiro-san I have to speak with you!"

He looks like a mouse caught in a trap, his eyes dart everywhere but there's no one to rescue him from this confrontation.

"N - Nowaki, I'm - "

"I got a letter from Doctor Carter!" I cut through whatever he might say. "He wants me to go to America with him to study! The plane leaves tonight! It's a big opportunity but I want to stay here!"

I can see all the facts dawning on him. His expression shifts and struggles to remain composed. I've seen him do the same so many times when he's trying to not to show how happy he is or how scared he might feel.

"Tell me you want to be with me too!" I push on. I'm desperate. Can't he see that I'm desperate? "I'll stay here for you!"

It's true. For Hiro-san, if it's Hiro-san, I would give up anything! I don't _need_ anything! Just Hiro-san. That's all.

His eyes widen but I can't tell what he's thinking. The gravity of this situation is probably suffocating him. I feel bad for forcing him to make such a serious decision, but it's nothing compared to how much this silence is crushing me.

"However, if you don't want me, if I'm only hurting you, then I'll go to America!"

Don't make me say these things.

"I'll stay there even!"

I don't want to say such selfless things.

"I'll convince Doctor Carter to let me stay and you won't ever have to see me again! Just tell me!"

Hiro-san, don't make me say such things to you!

"Hiro-san!"

"I - I have classes to teach!" he suddenly slides past me, books and papers stacked in his arms.

He's always disappearing from my view.

XX

An hour passes. When he returns with all his books and papers, he looks so grave. My heart can't take this much longer. That face…I know he's already made a decision. Was he thinking about it the whole time?

I stand by his desk but he doesn't come over. He sits on the couch and puts all his material on the table, picking up an envelope from the pile. It's my letter. Though the envelope is sealed again, I can definitely recognise my own handwriting on the front, spelling out his name carefully as I did those three hundred and sixty five times. For a moment, my heart jumps. Where did he get that?

"Hiro-san - "

"I bought you this bag, didn't I?" He suddenly interrupts, reaching for my bag, which I left on the couch.

He rummages through my things with a look of boredom, then pulls out a book; How the Panda got his spots.

"Are you reading this?" he asks as he flicks through it to the page I bookmarked.

"Yes," I say and, for some reason, he suddenly looks at me so sharply that my eyes are forced to the floor. When I finally look back, he's already bored with the book and the bag is on the couch again, sitting a clear foot away from him.

I take a step forward, coming to stand just in front of the table. I want to tell him everything now, before it's too late. Knowing that, maybe, I might never see him again gives a sudden urgency to my words. I want to tell him everything but I know there's not enough time. I couldn't possibly tell him everything even if I had a whole life time to do so

"Hiro-san, about America. I'm sorry I was away for so long but, you know, the training was actually meant to be two years long."

He looks up, surprised at this as I press on.

"I worked hard and completed it in one year because I wanted to see you so badly! I wanted to come back and proudly show you how I had managed to complete it in one year." I look away as I remember when Hiro-san told me that he became assistant professor. "But you were already moving on so quickly, achieving all your goals. It felt as though the gap between us was just growing too large."

"Nowaki…" I hear him breathe but he says no more.

I can't take this distance any longer and slide around the table so that I can crouch in front of him. He looks uncomfortable but doesn't move away so I persist. Ah, I want to touch him. I want to kiss this man.

Right now, it feels as if I'm handling glass. One wrong move and everything will shatter. I don't want it to shatter. I want to hold on as tightly as I can. I don't want to let go. Hiro-san, don't make me let go.

"Hiro-san," I say softly, because I think I'm going to overflow if I talk any louder. "You're the most important thing in the world to me, that's why I can say this now. That's why I want to put your happiness above everything else. That's why, if it hurts to be with me, I'll never come near you again, because the last thing I want is to hurt you."

Yes, because Hiro-san is precious, isn't he? Because I want to treasure him even over my own selfishness. Because I want him to be the happiest. Even if I'm not with him, as long as Hiro-san is happy, that's okay right? That's enough, right?

"You…" He looks at me, eyes wavering, trembling a little as he stares.

Then, he grabs a book and _hurls_ it at me.

"You idiot!" He's on his feet now, screaming. "You don't want to hurt me? You think I'm the most important thing in the world? What kind of crap is this? Are you even thinking about how _I _feel whilst you go on your noble self-sacrificing trip?"

I struggle to my feet as he begins to pace up and down. His cheeks are burning red and he's all breathless and angry.

"Did you even think about how _I _would feel when you left? Did you think I would care about our positions? I don't give a damn! You just went off to America to ease your own inferiority complex, it didn't have a thing to do with me!"

"That's not true! I love you!"

"It was _all _about you!"

"Hiro-san!" I grab him. I don't want him to go. I don't want to leave! Tell me that you want me to stay with you! Tell me, please Hiro-san, tell me! "Do you love me? Do you still love me? I'll stay here in Japan for you! I'll give up everything for you!"

"And you think that will make me happy?"

My mind races to keep up but everything is going too fast. He's throwing things about and screaming and crying and I'm helpless and trying to figure out what I should do, how I can make things better.

"Then what will? Please, just tell me! Hiro-san!" I plead with him. I don't know anymore. What should I do?

He stops suddenly; stops throwing and ranting and screaming as if someone's shut off the power that was fuelling his actions just moments ago.

"I want…" he turns, tears staining his face as he struggles to keep them at bay. "I want to stop feeling like an idiot! It's all your fault that I feel this way! Dammit, why the hell did you have to come along and barge your way into my life? Who the heck gave you the right to make me feel like this? Why the hell do I have to love you so damn much?!"

"Hiro-san…"

Then, he says it. I'm amazed how just words alone, when Hiro-san says them, are enough to make me feel such giddy happiness.

"Even though we've broke up, even though I'm supposed to be an adult and just move on, I still love you!" he cries, obstinately wiping away his tears with his sleeves. "I love you! Are you happy now?" he yells. "It's all your fault, idiot!"

"Hiro-san…" I breathe his name. Sliding towards him, I reach out a hand to touch him, wrapping my fingers around his wrists and pulling his hands away from his face. He doesn't resist. He lets me do as I wish, staring shame faced at the floor.

I want him. I want this man. I want to take all of him, right here and now on the office couch or against the wall or on the desk, or anywhere. I want to peel his clothes off and press my fingers against his skin and kiss every inch of him

The distance between us closes. Hiro-san grabs my shirt and pulls me down, crushing our lips together. I almost forgot what it was like to kiss Hiro-san, what it's like to have Hiro-san kiss me. I don't want to stop. I press him against the wall and we sink to the ground without breaking our kiss. I think I'm going to overflow.

I deepen the kiss. I want to feel more of Hiro-san, I want to feel all of him. His tears are warm when they touch my cheek, but his hands through my hair feel too good for me to move away and wipe them. I want to stay like this forever; alone with Hiro-san, kissing as if we have the rest of eternity.

But then he suddenly pulls away. His fingers flutter over my lips to stop me speaking. They stop me moving too.

"Nowaki," he whispers. "Go to America."

* * *

Thanks for reading! Who gets the next chapter is a surprise, though it's not Hiroki unfortunately.


	14. Let there be a storm

Thank you everyone for reviewing. This time it's Shinobu's first (and only) chapter. Remember Miyagi rushing through the university in the last chapter? Here's the reason. Edited to smooth out some mistakes.

* * *

**Let there be a storm**

**- Shinobu - **

XX

"I broke up with Kamijou," Miyagi said. "Well, it was more or a mutual thing. We both agreed to it."

"Why?" I looked him at oddly when he told me this latest piece of news.

Miyagi laughed a little, though it wasn't funny at all. He's always laughing at unfunny things. "Well, it's just one of those things, isn't it?" he said. "People grow close, they drift apart, they decide they're not right for the other. It's just one of those things and it was no use letting it drag so we broke up."

"No, why are you telling me this?"

He looked at me, confused. "I thought you'd be happy. Oh, and don't go harassing Kamijou anymore, okay?"

Honestly, the way he talks you'd think I was some sort of terrorist! I never harassed that guy anyway, except for that one time maybe.

Though Miyagi says it's all over, that doesn't really mean anything to me because nothing is happening on my side. At least they had something to end. Me? There's nothing at all.

Those odd touches and strange looks which _could _be meaningful don't amount to anything, do they?

Miyagi's always looking so cheerful and friendly when he talks to me that it's sort of depressing. I want to grab him and shake him by his collar, yelling; 'Feel something dammit! Feel something!'

Even if it's hate, at least feel _something _for me!

Yet sometimes he gives me these looks that linger just a little too long, sometimes he smiles in that sort of way that makes me feel like it's okay to hope. Then the next day he'll be the same as always and I won't know how to react. Is he teasing me or something? Stupid Miyagi! Or am I just seeing more than there actually is?

It's tiring. It's confusing. I don't know what to think.

Maybe it's time to go back after all.

XX

In the airport the noise washes over me. People come and go all the time, they call for others, children run around playing and speakers make lost child and flight announcements every five minutes. Strangely, I prefer all this commotion to silence.

I've been on flights by myself so many times, arrived and departed by myself so many times before that sitting alone waiting for my flight isn't lonely at all. I've already checked in all my luggage and stuff, gone through the normal procedures and so on. It's just really boring. It's the boredom I hate the most, because when you're bored you begin to think about things you don't want to. Like my stupid attempt to win over Miyagi for instance.

Someone hails me and I stand up out of curiosity but it's no one I was expecting, or wanted to see for that matter.

"What are you doing here?" my eyes narrow upon sight of that man. Usami-san, wasn't it? Why is he here? I left a message for Misaki, not him. Besides, he looks sort of unsociable.

"You're going back to Australia?" he lights up a cigarette. The smell of smoke reminds me too much of Miyagi. He stares at me as I step back, waving away the smoke, and a small smile crosses his face. "You know, when Misaki introduced you to me, I thought you were sort of spunky but you're just a spoiled brat after all."

What the hell?

Is that something an adult says to someone about eleven years younger than them? Show some maturity, idiot!

"Don't call me a brat!" I snap at him. He just smirks.

"What's wrong with calling a brat a brat? You can't get what you want so you're going to run away and sulk."

"That's not what I'm doing! That's not it at all!" I yell. Who the heck is this guy anyway? I know he's a great novelist and whatever, and he's probably Misaki's tongue wrestling buddy but, seriously, he's coming here just to abuse me! "Besides," I shout, "I called your place to say goodbye to Misaki, not you! You can go home now. I don't want to speak with _you_!"

"What is it you're doing then?" he says, calmly taking out a pen and a notebook.

"Where's Misaki?" I ask.

"He's coming. He said he would meet me here," he waves me down, indicating that I should probably take a seat. I don't, just to spite him.

"What are you doing?" he asks, not particularly caring whether I sit or not.

"I'm…" I pause. What am I doing? "I'm going back - "

He begins writing something. "Because you've given up?" he asks.

"Because I - what are you doing?"

His pen scribbles furiously across the lined sheets.

"Tell me, how do you exactly feel?"

Is this an interview or something? Though he's done nothing but annoy me, I answer him honestly. Maybe it's some writer's trick, but when he asks I feel like giving him a straight reply.

"I…I think if I go back to Australia I can gain some perspective on it. You can't force love on someone, right?" I glance at him but he gives no indication of whether he agrees or not. "I'll - I don't know - I'll better myself or something, and then I'll come back. It's not like I've given up or anything."

He nods absently and continues writing. Honestly, what kind of response is that? Tired of standing around, I decide to go to the check if my flight has been moved up or not.

"If Misaki comes, I'll tell him where you are," Usami-san waves me away, deadly focussed on his notepad.

At the board, I notice that my flight is on schedule as well. I'm not sure if I'm glad or not. Do I want the flight to come faster or do I want it to be delayed? I can't tell anymore.

Some loud American stands besides me, totally absorbed in the times and flights. He probably doesn't notice me staring. He's an old guy. Well, not old really but he's older than Miyagi at least.

I think he's American since he's talking in English and he has that accent. He looks at his watch - it's an expensive watch, he must be a businessman - and sighs.

"It's almost time. Where is Kusama? We're supposed to be leaving soon!"

Another man with him, who looks like a dwarf besides him, says, in badly spoken English which grates my ears. "I sent him a letter and a ticket on your behalf, but whether he will turn up…" he sighs and shrugs his shoulders.

The first man sighs as well. "Well, in the meantime, I'll go back to the waiting area," he says and starts marching in my direction.

Then he takes a huge step towards me. His stride is so wide that I don't have time to move before his body collides with mine, knocking all my things - and his things too - on the floor.

"Ah!" he drops to his knees. "Oh, I'm sorry!"

"No, it's my fault," I reply, getting on my knees too in order to gather my things.

"Here, sorry," he hands me my flight ticket.

"Thank you," I bow and rush off before another accident can happen.

I don't get very far, however, before another voice stops me. I recognise the voice this time. I can recognise Misaki's voice anywhere.

As I turn, he comes running up to me, slightly breathless. He's not the athletic type, I suppose.

"You're going back to Australia, Shinobu-kun? Why?" he asks as he reaches me, hauling a plastic bag full of homemade rice balls and sandwiches for the trip, which he dumps in my arms.

"Well - "

"Isn't the - the guy you love here?" he says before I can thank him for the gift.

The very thought of Miyagi makes me feel sour. "I didn't tell him I was leaving."

"Ehh? Why not?" he looks shocked and confused and worried all at once. It must be nice to be in a relationship where you're so sure of the other person's love.

It's not that I want to leave. Not really. However, I'm smart enough to know that dragging things around will get me nowhere. Even though I've been so persistent, Miyagi's moved less than a rock and even when he shows signs of caring it only confuses me. Is he doing it just because he's been told to, because I'm a kid who needs to be looked after perhaps, or is he serious? Which one is it?

"Think about it, it would have been awkward, wouldn't it?" I shrug and open up the plastic bag so I don't have to look Misaki in the face. Such an open guy…it's admirable.

"Are you sure?"

"About what?" I look up.

"Leaving," Misaki waves a hand in the air. "Well, I'm probably totally wrong about this, but I get the feeling that if you leave things just like this you'll just end up regretting it. Well, that's sort of how I feel anyway." He stutters and laughs, embarrassed for saying something so deep.

So I say; "I'll miss you," because I don't really want to talk about anything 'deep' today either.

This makes him brighten at least. "We can keep in touch. I'll write to you or something!"

"Email me. We're living in the twenty-first century after all."

"I'll try," he nods.

I check my watch. It's almost time. I feel a pang of dread as I realise that soon I'll be on a plane, travelling miles and miles away from Tokyo. It's stupid, isn't it? I mean, I can come back whenever I want and it's not like I can't see my family again.

Except, I know it's not leaving my family that makes me feel so reluctant to get on. This is even stupider though! I'm the one who decided to go back to Australia after all. Angry with myself, I glance at the gate number on my ticket. K37? Fine! I'll go to K37, I'll get on that plane, I'll go back to Australia and I won't even look back!

"Well, I better go," I say hastily to Misaki.

"Eh? Wait a minute, I'm sure Usagi-san wants to talk to you," he catches my sleeve.

The thought of seeing that man again makes me pull a face. "You say goodbye to him for me."

He offers to help me with my luggage but it's not necessary. I've already put all the heavy luggage on the conveyer belt, which will end up in the bottom of the plane or on some separate flight, and the only hand luggage I have is my bag and the food Misaki gave me. It's hardly a difficulty to lug around.

"Well, in that case, have a safe trip, Shinobu-kun. Oh, and come back and visit any time!" he sends me off with a smile. His bright, cheery face somehow makes me smile a little too. I think everyone, when flying, should have someone there to send them off with a smile.

It's too bad it's not Miyagi. Then again, if Miyagi was smiling and waving when I was about to go to Australia I would probably throttle him for being an insensitive jerk.

I wave my ticket to the staff at the boarding gate and they nod accordingly.

"This way please," an air hostess ushers me into the plane.

I find my seat quickly and store my luggage in the overhead compartment before taking my seat. Glancing out of the window, I can see all the other planes and the people running around the runways in bright orange jumpsuits. So, I really am leaving Japan after all. I'm leaving him. I wonder if I'll see him again.

"Hello everyone, this is the pilot speaking, we hope you have an enjoyable trip," the intercom crackles as the hostesses go through the usual safety procedures and the plane begins to travel down the runway.

I buckle myself in and prepare for a long and boring flight as the pilot speaks again.

"We want to take this moment to thank everyone for flying with us today. This is a JCL Atlantic flight headed directly from Tokyo, Japan to New York, America."

"New York!? America!?" As if there are pins under my seat, I leap up, unbuckling my seatbelt before the light above me says that it's okay to take them off.

"Sir, what's wrong?" one of the hostesses asks, alarmed. _I'm_ the one who should be alarmed, I'm on the wrong plane!

"I've got the wrong flight! I'm supposed to be going to Australia!" I cry. It's a little scary to think that I'm going to a country I've never been to before completely alone.

The hostess looks at me as if I'm either crazy or an idiot. Personally, I feel like the latter. What kind of person heads out to Australia and ends up going to America?

"…I'm sorry sir, the plane is almost in the air, we can't stop now and it's a direct flight," she says, urging me back into my seat.

"But - "

"I'm sorry sir. When we land we'll help you contact your parents and sort out a ticket back for you," she says and I realise that there really is nothing I can do.

I sit back down and buckle up, sighing to myself. What kind of mess is this? How could I have been so careless as to end up on a wrong flight? Did I accidentally take that guy's ticket when I bumped into him? How embarrassing!

So, I'm stuck on a plane heading straight for America when I should be on my way to Australia. A little bubble of panic rises but I manage to squash it and think about it logically. I have money, I can speak English, I have a phone that I can use to make overseas calls; it'll be okay.

Except that my father will probably kill me.

* * *

Next chapter: Miyagi. Please look forward to it!


	15. We will smile

Here we go, the Miyagi chapter, which gave me such grief, is finally complete. Thanks to everyone for reviewing.

* * *

**We will smile**

**- Miyagi - **

XX

I sit at my desk trying to do the rest of my paperwork whilst I effectively shut thoughts of Kamijou and Shinobu from my mind.

My relationship with Kamijou is long over, I know that, and I don't have any regrets. It's a huge relief that we're still on good terms. Despite everything, I still like Kamijou a lot, though I'll probably lay off the hugging and poking for a while.

No, it's Shinobu that's bothering me. The unanswered question; when did we ever meet? keeps popping up in my mind.

The first time we met was surely in that alleyway off of the main street outside that bookshop. I never saw him once before that. No, the first time was definitely outside that -

Ah, I think I know.

No, I don't. No, it's all really fuzzy to me. I never concentrate on anything other than the book I'm reading when I'm in that place. I can't be sure but, maybe, possibly, I think I remember seeing the same blue school uniform that Shinobu used to wear in that place. That's not unusual, school kids pass through there all the time. Could one them have been Shinobu?

But, even so, we never spoke. I didn't even notice him! You can't call something like that -

The phone rings, interrupting my grand train of thoughts. Ah, it's only the Dean calling to check on things.

"Ah, Miyagi, you're at the university are you?" he sounds surprised to hear me.

"Yes, I have to work today," I reply, slightly puzzled. He should know my schedule off by heart. He was the one who planned it at the beginning of the year.

"Oh, I thought you would have asked Kamijou to fill in for you. In fact, I thought you would be at the airport."

"Kamijou? Airport?" I echo back, confused.

When the Dean speaks he sounds just as confused as I am. "Didn't Shinobu tell you? He's going back to Australia. His flight leaves from Narita airport in a few hours."

Before he can say any more, I slam the phone back down. Shinobu's going to Australia? Why? He never said a thing to me? I feel slightly upset that, even though he always wanted to know what I was doing, he never told me about such an important thing.

Then it hits me. It hits me like a number 64 bus. Maybe he didn't tell _because _it's so important. Maybe he couldn't bear to see me.

Was it really that painful? Was he really so serious about me that he thought he couldn't face me again?

Ah, what am I doing just sitting around? I have to go! I have to go now!

I call up Kamijou quickly as I rush about. I don't even know what I'm saying to him as he picks up, I'm too flustered and in too much of a hurry to pay attention to what I'm saying.

Fortunately, he's close by so I don't have to wait long before he arrives. Without giving him an explanation, I dump the materials for the next class in his arms and race away. I notice that guy – Kamijou's old lover? – also rushing through the halls but, whatever, I don't have time for him.

It takes ages to get to Narita. It's a long drive and the traffic certainly doesn't help. I drive like a madman, fearing that the police might pull me over at any second but unwilling to stop. I don't understand why I'm rushing. What for? It's just a brat going back to some country, yet I know that if I let him go I'll probably end up regretting it for the rest of my life.

Finally, arriving at the airport, I rush in. People look at me as if I'm crazy - which I probably am - and someone even yells at me to slow down but I ignore them.

"Shinobu? Shinobu!"

I run to the waiting area where everyone should going to Australia should be seated. My eyes rake over the seats but there's only families and business men and smart looking women who could be C-list celebrities sitting around.

They're all of typically Japanese appearance. In fact, the only one with eyes remotely like Shinobu's is some guy in a smart suit and waistcoat who looks absolutely bored as he writes something down on a pad. He looks familiar though, but that's not important right now. I turn away and try searching the same crowd again.

"Usagi-san, sorry for the wait, I - Miyagi-sensei?"

It's a surprise to see one of my students at the airport. Well, he's one of Kamijou's students actually but he studies literature and I am the head of literature so I know who he is at least.

"Takahashi? Why are you here?" I ask, bewildered. No, that's not the question I should be asking. In fact, I probably shouldn't be asking anything when I could be looking for that kid.

"My lessons are over," he says as if I'm accusing him of skipping classes. "Usagi- I mean Usami-san and I were saying goodbye to a friend."

Usami-san? Now that I think about it, he does look like the novelist. Had this been any other time or place I would be excited but, right now I can only say; "Oh, I see" and glance around, not really listening.

Takahashi's a sharp kid though. Well, he's sharp when it comes to people anyway; he quickly picks upon my distraction and asks; "Are you looking for someone?"

"The Dean's son. He's going to Australia and he should be here but…"

"That's funny. My friend's also going to Australia," he comments. Again, I'm not really listening.

"Ah, where did that guy go? Oi, Shinobu, if you're hiding it's not funny!" Loads of people stare at me, but no Shinobu, not even a glimpse.

"Shinobu-kun?" Takahashi _finally _says something that catches my attention.

"You know him?" I turn to him. The guy behind him is scribbling something in a notebook like mad.

Something terrible must be dawning on Takahashi because his eyes grow wide and he points a finger over his shoulder. "H - he just got on the plane."

"What?" He winces as I snap. The guy, who had been writing rapidly suddenly looks up and glowers at me for it.

"It's already taken off," he looks at me guiltily, as though he himself is personally responsible for the flight schedule.

I don't care if he is or not. The fact is that Shinobu's gone and I feel terrible. What the hell is up with that? This should be the best day of my life! The little terrorist is gone and no one will bother me anymore, so why do I feel the need to sit down, bury my head in my hands, and groan?

XX

Someone up there doesn't like me.

Someone up there _really_ doesn't like me.

For all the times I made fun of Shinobu-chin for believing in Fate and junk like that, I think that Fate has decided to use this precise moment to come back and bite me in the butt.

"E - excuse me?" is all I can stutter as I stand before the Dean's desk, utterly stupefied.

He claps his hands together in front of his face in an apologetic gesture and bows his head. "I'm very sorry!" he cries. "I know how unprofessional it is for me to ask you this, to mix private life with profession work, but I have no one else I can rely on! Risako and her mother are in Paris and I have to go to another very important conference in Munich. There's absolutely no one else and of course I will pay for your flight and all travel expenses!"

This is a joke, isn't it? I can hardly believe it.

Wait, let me go over it again. Shinobu left for Australia yesterday and somehow, _somehow_, ended up in America?! At least he managed to get in contact with his father otherwise he might have been stuck there for ages but, even so, _America_?!

"W - well, I don't mind but wouldn't it be cheaper for you to forward a plane ticket to Australia directly to Shinobu?" I stutter. Stupid, I should be leaping at this chance. It's America! And Shinobu's there anyway.

"I don't want him to go to Australia," the Dean shakes his head.

Poor guy, the worries of fatherhood have definitely taken its toll on him.

"Not yet, anyhow. He's always been a secretive type but he's also very level headed and intelligent. For something like this to happen makes me feel as if there's something wrong that he's not telling me about. No, I want you to bring him back to Japan so I can talk to him face to face when I get back," he orders.

"Then wouldn't it be fine to send him a ticket to Japan?" I kick myself for asking. Just take the ticket!

The Dean begins pacing up and down as he shakes his head. "After what happened, I would feel better if he had a responsible adult like you to look after him."

A nervous smile spreads across my face. Responsible adult, huh? I'm glad Kamijou isn't here to tell him about my breaks spent whizzing around the office on the wheeled chairs.

"Okay then, I understand," I accept and he looks as though I've told him I would gladly bear him children.

...I really should work on those comparisons.

XX

Thus, the next morning, I take the first flight to America, happy in the knowledge that everything I do is being covered for me.

It's a grueling fourteen hours spent watching the same reruns of old films over and over, reading and eating the most expensive meal on the menu. By the time I can finally set my feet down on land, it's only mid-afternoon and it feels as if I've travelled back in time.

As I walk out of the checkpoint into the arrivals area my eyes catch a glimpse of a familiar figure leaning against the wall.

"Shinobu!" I wave him over.

"M - Miyagi?" his eyes widen as he approaches.

"Your father told you over the phone, didn't he?" I nod and reach out to ruffle his hair. "Are you okay? It must have been scary suddenly ending up in a strange country."

His blush makes me pull back. Suddenly, everything feels really awkward to me. He looks away, at the ground, at the wall, I don't really know since I'm not looking at him either.

"Ah…It's okay. I had enough money to book a hotel room and I can speak English so…" he trails away, shrugging as if it's nothing. .

Ah, this is no good! What am I doing? I'm an adult and yet I'm getting flustered in front of a kid! An adult should definitely be more cool and composed. They should take charge of the situation!

"It's okay. Hey, if it was me I would probably be in tears!" I look at him again, forcing a wobbly smile on to my face.

His glumness makes me nervous; I would feel so much more at ease if he would smile. I wish he would smile.

"America, huh? Whilst we're here why don't we do some shopping and sight-seeing? Your father's paying for everything after all."

He shakes his head glumly. "I just want to get back."

So, there goes my chance to see more of America than just the airport. I sigh, but there's not much time until our plane departs anyway. I wonder whether the Dean was just so worried that he wanted Shinobu back as soon as possible or if he was being sly and made sure that, the moment I landed, there would only be an hour or so before I would have to board again.

We take a seat in one of the waiting areas whilst we glance at the flight numbers flashing on an overhead board. He only has his hand luggage with him when we get ready to board. Myself? I didn't bring more than a bag since I knew this would be an in and out job.

"Is that all?" I point at the grey bag slung over his shoulder. "Where's the rest of your luggage?"

"In Australia."

"Ah."

"I'm sorry about this," he suddenly murmurs. Even though he says it so softly, I can hear him loud and clear.

"About what?" I ask.

"Making you come all this way just to escort me back. You probably think it's a bother."

"Of course not!" I scoff. "I get to see America, well the airport at least, and I can eat as much as I want without worrying about the money, which reminds me…are you hungry?"

"You don't have to do this," he mutters. "Being so cheerful. If it annoys you, just say so."

This response only makes me sigh. I think Kamijou said something similar to me once. What was it? Don't be so affectionate when you're not really in the mood. I know, I'm a frivolous liar just like Kamijou calls me and I play around, but I've learnt from my experience that, sometimes, being playful is just a way of avoiding the issue.

This is a time for seriousness. I'm not going to evade the important issues the way I did with Kamijou.

"Don't be stupid," I rap my knuckles against his forehead. Lightly, I might add. The Dean would kill me if he wasn't in one piece. "I don't mind. In fact, I even went to the airport to see you, but you had already gone. I thought I'd probably never see you again."

Shinobu suddenly looks up at me. "You went to the airport? Why?"

"To stop you," I reply, totally serious.

"To stop me?" he echoes back.

"Don't ask me! I don't know why I did it, a spur of the moment thing, I guess!" I cry, buckling under the terrible pressure of that intense gaze. Does he even know that he's doing it when he looks at you?

Obviously not, for he just manages a short; "Oh," and glances at the ground.

Except, his eyes stay rooted to the ground. His head remains bowed for such a long time that I glance at his face and suddenly pull back as I catch a tear slipping down.

This kid is seriously going to give me a heart attack.

"Sh - Shinobu? Hey, come on, don't start crying on me! Come on, people will think I'm a bad man that's harassing you and the police will come to take me away and…"

My voice trails away. What do I do? How do I deal with crying kids? I can't even deal with crying women but, as always, I turn into such a sucker when I see someone's tears.

One of the workers at the airport passes with a trolley of goods; food, drink, perfume, souvenirs, the usual stuff. Something catches my eye when I glance at her and I fling an arm out to stop her.

"Excuse me, I'll take one of those," I quickly pay her before turning back to Shinobu. "Shinobu-chin, here!" I shove it into his arms as if I'm giving him the Nobel prize.

"W - what's this?" he straightens, rubbing his eyes.

"It's a cabbage shaped lollipop!"

"It looks like a flower," he says dryly as he wipes away his tears.

"It's a cabbage," I insist. What kind of flower look like _that_ anyway?

"It's red!"

"You can get red cabbage!"

To my utmost relief, a small smile worms its way on to his face. He's so cute and honest and open in that moment that I can't help myself when I put a hand on the side of his head and slowly pull him towards me, his head lying gently against my shoulder.

I feel his breath hitch but I don't look at him, only at the space between my feet at our reflection in the polished floor.

"Shinobu, don't go to Australia. You should stay in Japan."

He's surprised. I don't even have to look at him to know that he's surprised. Maybe he's a little embarrassed too. I know I am. An old guy like me can't say these kind of things easily; it always comes out so uncool.

Even so, I'll stake my pride and say these uncool things to stop him crying. No, not just to stop him crying. Because, deep down, this kid that talks about Fate this and that and always does his best to put on a brave face is letting me see the crying face he probably hasn't even shown his own parents since he was seven.

Because, as stupid as this Fate stuff that he keeps going on about really is, I would like to try it too.

That's probably why I keep a hold of him until our plane arrives. That's probably why I say to him; "Stay in Japan. I'll stay with you too."

Though it isn't exactly the most unambiguous thing I could possibly say, I think he understands what I mean.

Our first kiss is a tentative and shy one, thousands of feet in the air, in the cramped and polished compartment of an airplane toilet.

* * *

Next up: The last chapter. Please look forward to it.


	16. Though summer is over

First off, a big thank you to Qatari-sama and racoons50 for taking a look at the final chapter(s), your views were very helpful indeed. It was a very, very hard decision, and at one point I thought of just rewriting the whole thing, but I eventually went for this version. I hope no one is disappointed by it.

* * *

**Though summer is gone**

**- Nowaki -**

"I told you, you must have made a mistake! I booked a flight to America, not Australia! Look, there's someone else's name on the ticket, it's not mine!" Doctor Carter is yelling at one of the flight staff.

The man at the desk checks his computer. "I'm sorry sir but I definitely issued you a ticket to America."

"No, that can't be right!"

While I listen to Doctor Carter argue with the people at the flight desk, I sit at the benches amongst the crowds of other people waiting for their flight. I can't go to America without him anyway.

Hunched over, waiting patiently, I feel as if I've been drained of energy. I feel empty and completely calm, but it's a deceiving sort of tranquility. The slightest jolt, just a faint memory and I know I'll crumble into a hopeless mess.

Hiro-san, did you really hate me? Was I unnecessary? I wonder where I went wrong. When we kissed I thought his true feelings were in that kiss, but then he sent me away. He doesn't want to see me anymore. Is it because he can't stand my face? Was I really causing him so much pain?

I want to take my mind off of all this. It looks like Doctor Carter will be a while though, so I reach for my bag, and take out my book. It's not actually my book though; it's one of Hiro-san's. Come to think of it, I probably should have returned it. I won't be seeing him again after all.

I hate it. I hate the thought of going to America, of never being in the same place as Hiro-san, but this is a decision that he made. Even if it hurts me not to see him, I won't do anything to cause him pain. I'll stay in America.

Before I can open the book and bury myself in it the way Hiro-san used to do when he was stressed, Doctor Carter comes ambling back, frowning and yet oddly content despite the disagreeable look on his face. He mutters something under his breath, something about flight staff and 'incompetence' before gesturing towards me.

"It's sorted," he says wearily. "Let's go."

To America.

XX

I'm living in dorms again. One room is much like any other. The furniture provided is minimal – a sink, a bed, a desk, a chair, a cupboard and a bookshelf. My clothes go in the cupboard, out of sight, the books on the shelf, toiletries by the sink, and so on. That's all there is to it.

It's such an empty room.

I lean against the window ledge and listen to the flood of traffic roaring by whilst I watch the patterns of grey light shift across the carpet. I can hear water running somewhere not too far away and music, I think, faint threads of music from the room next door.

It's silent in here.

The curtains shift in the wind.

It's silent in here.

XX

I must remember to close my windows before I leave; the others warned me about thieves. When I got back this evening my books were all over the floor.

Fortunately, that was only a fierce gust of wind knocking them off of the shelf, but now I have to spend time putting them back into place. I stack them in alphabetical order – a habit I picked up from Hiro –

No, I shouldn't think about him, should I? I don't have the right to anymore.

As I get halfway through the pile, my hands stop upon that old book – How the panda got its spots – Hiro-san's book. I don't want to open it. There are too many memories in there; I'm afraid they will fly out and attack me if I open it but, as I pick it up to put it on the shelf, something falls out from between the pages. A letter? Was I carrying any letters with me?

No, wait. This is…this one of the letters I wrote to Hiro-san when I was in America. He had it with him on that day, though I can't possibly imagine how or why.

Carefully, I wriggle a finger under the flap and open the letter. I can tell that it's been opened more than once so it's an easy enough job. The moment I slip it out my eyes are immediately drawn to the writing on the back. I never wrote anything on the back before and it's not my handwriting anyway.

It's Hiro-san's.

A number, a name, and four words;

_I__'__ll wait for you._

XX

**- Hiroki -**

A day passes. Two days, three, before I know it a week has already gone by, yet it feels as though it's taken an eternity just to get this far.

Nowaki is gone. After he told me those things, after he told me what a great opportunity he had been given, how could he expect me to make him stay? He could be a great doctor; he could go really far if he takes this chance. How could I be the one to get in his way?

At first, I began to wonder if he saw my note. Where would he be when he reads it? In a lonely, single room where he spends the night? Or maybe in a park somewhere waiting for his lessons to start? I wondered if he found it at all.

Then I got the call.

"It's me."

Nowaki…

"Hiro-san, I - "

"How are you?" I ask.

There's a pause, a rather long one at that, and then he says, in a much more controlled much softer tone; "...I'm okay. How are you, Hiro-san?"

"I'm okay too. I've been bored a lot, though."

We say things like that a lot.

There's a lot of silence.

"Ah, Nowaki," I say, "you've probably got a lot of things to do. I've got a lot of grading to do too. Let's talk again some other time, okay? See ya."

Our calls don't even last five minutes.

It's not that I hate him. It's not that I don't want to hear him. Every time he calls I want to know what he's doing and how he's been. Is he eating properly? Has he been working hard? Only, it's too awkward. We didn't even get back together properly before I sent him packing again.

I'm such an idiot. If I could have just stopped loving him I would have spared myself a lot of pain. No, Nowaki's the real idiot, barging into my life and saying such things! He comes in and sweeps me away without even asking permission. Why is it always like that? I always have to put my guard up around him or I won't be able to control myself.

XX

"It's me."

"Oh…Nowaki," I try to smile even though I know he can't see it. My wobbly smile keeps on trying to turn itself into a frown.

"Hiro-san," his voice is always so soft. I wonder if it's a bad line. Overseas calls are like that, aren't they? "How have you been?"

"Ah, okay, I guess. My students are getting stupider, I think."

He laughs a little at this but even I, hundreds of miles away, can tell that it's a little forced.

"How about you? You're not pushing yourself too hard, are you?" I ask.

"No, I'm fine. Actually, I…" he pauses. For a moment, it's so silent I'm afraid the line has cut out or something, but then he speaks again. "I…Hiro-san, sorry for all this. Actually…I want to see you again."

I can feel my own breath hitching.

"Ah, I'm sorry, Hiro-san! I shouldn't be saying awkward things like that, should I?" he laughs nervously.

All I can manage is a sort of "Ah," sound, which could be in agreement but I'm not really sure.

He speaks very quietly, very tenderly, as if he might scare me away. "You know," he says. "It's getting quite cold here. Is it the same in Japan?"

"A little," I reply. Great, now we're talking about the weather.

After ten minutes, I hang up.

XX

Nowaki calls every day now. Honestly, is he seriously getting any work done at all? I don't want to think that he's wasting all this precious time just chatting with me!

"Are you really serious about this doctor thing? You're calling me every day!"

Through the phone line, he sounds like a lost puppy. Damn, how can he make me feel so guilty about things that aren't even my fault? This idiot just doesn't understand things at all. He doesn't understand that I want him to succeed.

"I'm sorry. Am I bothering you?"

"N - Not really!" I snap, trying to hide the blush I'm sure is creeping into my cheeks. Why do I bother? It's not like he can see it. "I'm just wondering if you've been wasting time calling me when you could be studying! If you're not serious about it you might as well come home already!"

He draws a short gasp.

What? What did I say that would make him…

Ah. Come home, I said. Home, as in Japan. Japan, as in where I am. Come back to me. That's what that idiot is thinking, isn't it?

Yet when he eventually hangs up, I stay on the phone with my ear still pressed against the receiver, listening to the high-pitched humming of the line left behind.

…

XX

Time flies. Before, I thought a month would last forever but now the time has come and gone. I pace up and down the polished hall restlessly, waiting for Nowaki's flight to come in.

Finally, I hear the announcement I've been waiting for. I can hear the sound of a suitcase rolling along linoleum and glance up to see Nowaki heading straight towards me.

I do my best to look apathetic. I cross my arms and try to seem as if I'm simply bored but I'm sure he can hear my heart beat way over the noise and the announcements around us.

He stops before me, smiling in a faint sort of way. It's a nervous, unsure smile. I know because I think I'm smiling in exactly the same way. We exchange the usual, formal greetings. His smile keeps slipping into a frown and all around me I can feel this air of awkwardness trying to drag us down.

Great, what do I say now?

"...Shall we take a taxi back?"

"That's fine. To your apartment or mine?" he asks.

"Yours. You need to unpack, don't you?"

Silence.

XX

Nowaki's apartment fills me with nostalgia. I haven't been here in such a long time yet nothing has changed at all. I draw a deep breath and close my eyes as I step inside. It's overwhelming. This place is filled with Nowaki.

"I'll make dinner," he offers and disappears into the kitchen before I can get a word out.

I stay wandering around the front room, reminding myself of everything, soaking in memories. This is what Nowaki's couch feels like, this is what my footsteps against his floor sound like, this is what Nowaki's cooking smells like when it drifts from the kitchen…

We eat in subdued silence. The sound of utensils clacking is like a bombshell barrage. Finally, I place my chopsticks over my empty bowl, saying hollow thanks for the food.

"So…how was America?" I ask the floor.

"I'd like to say that it was a lot of fun but I was studying so hard that it was very tiring," he replies to the table.

Silence. It's become so common these days that I would hardly notice it, except that Nowaki is fidgeting a little too much for me _not _to notice it.

"Um…" I begin, at the same time Nowaki says; "Hiro-san…" which silences both of us. I pause and wait for him to say something but he seems to be doing the same. The awkwardness makes me feel cold and uncomfortable, so uncomfortable that I cannot bear sitting around any longer.

"I – I'll do the washing up!"

I make my way to the sink to start washing the knives. As I'm just about to wet the sponge, I feel his hands flutter over my shoulder. His fingers feel like fire.

Then he suddenly grabs me.

He cries "Hiro-san!" with such fierceness that it takes me aback. His arms wrap around me so tightly that I think I might stop breathing any moment now.

You know those moments that people say made time stop for a moment? This is one of them. I think I can see the droplets of sink water float in front of my face. I can feel my body careen back as I drop the knife into the sink.

"St –Stupid! That's dangerous, you know?"

I can't see Nowaki's face. It's buried in my back. I can't see it at all.

"Hiro-san," he whispers. "I missed you!"

It is as if everything that was held back before is being unleashed. Just those words open the floodgates to everything we've ever held back in silence. I missed you. I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to see you. I wanted to kiss you. I wanted to love you. I wanted _you_ to love _me_.

It's unfair. Cheater. Liar. Idiot. Moron. Brat. Don't say things like that! What the hell is wrong with him? Don't say things like that to me! If you say things like that, how am I supposed to react? How do I stop myself from saying 'Please, tell me more'?

"When I finally arrived I was so happy to finally see you again, but Hiro-san is…" His voice quivers with the same desperate quality he had when he left me in the rain. I can feel his head buried against my shoulder, his arms around me; his hands burning through my shirt.

"I'm what?" I snap. In the end, I suppose I am angry. Yes, of course I'm angry. I feel like an idiot and it's all his fault! Why am I so hopeless; being tied to one person, unable to let go. That makes me an idiot, right? A fool who keep trying to live the same dream over and over.

"I'm not going anywhere! I'm going to stay with you. I'm not leaving you ever again! I'll work hard to make Hiro-san happy! I love you! I'll love you forever!" he cries.

It's his fault I'm like this. He says such things to me. He keeps repeating them over and over. Stop it! Don't say 'I'll work hard for you,' don't say 'I'll love you forever' because I know I'll believe you. I'll believe you every time! Don't say such things to me! Don't say them! Stupid Nowaki!

"You're an idiot. Doing something foolish like that just for me. Why are you so stupid?" Why am I so stupid? Why am I always tricked into falling over and over again?

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "But, Hiro-san, I can do these things_ because _it's for you. I'm not giving you to anyone!"

Unconsciously, it must be unconsciously because I don't remember moving my arm, at some point I've been gripping his wrist. I feel his arms tighten around me and his lips press against my collar bone, trailing kisses up my neck. I turn my face to meet his, hand trambling, taking shallow breaths as we kiss.

When he chuckles softly, I can feel his breath against my neck. I close my eyes and breathe him in. Nowaki. This is what Nowaki feels like. This is how he smells. This is what it's like to run my hands over his. This is what it's like to love him.

He whispers about how much he loves me and all sorts of embarrassing things as he buries his head in my shoulder, nuzzling it gently and, as I reach out to hold him, for a moment I think I can hear this strange sound.

It's a piano. Just one piano. But it's not Satie's Gymnopedie or even Chopin's Raindrop Prelude. It's something else. Some other song, striking chords that resounds across the world.

XX

Despite the time that passes, some things never change. Takahashi got a bright red D for his next paper, although if he keeps giving me food to pass on to 'Kusama-san' then I could always turn it into an F.

The director's brat remained in Tokyo after all. I didn't even know he was thinking of leaving. He's aiming for Tokyo University - apparently Miyagi convinced him to go for it - but he keeps dropping by to pester us. To pester Miyagi actually.

Whenever Miyagi's teaching, the brat's mood always gets so foul and he throws himself onto the couch as if he owns the place, which I suppose he might do one day since he's the director's kid.

At times like these, I wish that either Miyagi or Takahashi would show up to take him away. If Takahashi pokes his head in, Shinobu catches him and drags him out to get a drink, shooting back glares at me. Brat.

When neither do, we argue about literature and current affairs as if there's no tomorrow. I swear there's something wrong with that kid. How the hell did he grow up with such backwards logic?

Our arguments about Akihiko's works are especially fierce. I know the brat just does it to piss me off - I tell him Miyagi throws away his cabbage bento boxes just to piss _him _off - but sometimes it's as if he's got a personal grudge against the man. Brats can't appreciate good literature these days.

Nowaki is sitting in the front room of our new apartment watching TV. I feel like an old married couple when I think about how we decided to live together. An old, very gay married couple.

Ah, Akihiko is on TV and looking completely bored, probably because Takahashi is at university right now. He turned the whole mess we made into his next novel, although he made some _major_ changes. Apparently, I'm a girl now. My name is Hiromi and I have boobs.

The whole thing was a roaring success. I'm thinking of asking for a percentage of the earnings since he wouldn't have wrote the damn thing otherwise. It won him the Kikukawa book award, though the real celebration and award festival will take place in some fancy hotel. Popular novelists sure have it easy.

Too bad for Akihiko; he hates going to award festivals. Well, he gets to stay in an all-expenses-paid hotel suite so what's he complaining about? I'm sure he can drag his boy-toy along if he really wants to.

"All this fuss! It wasn't as if it was his greatest book," I grumble at the TV set. Perhaps I'm being a little bit biased.

Nowaki gets up behind me and drapes his arms around my waist. "Usami-san is amazing though, isn't he? To be able to write something like that. Maybe I should borrow it from you. What's it called again?"

I snort at the idea. I don't want him to read about all that embarrassing stuff.

"I don't know," I mumble, trying to ignore the fact that his hands are wandering too far south for this time of day.

It's another lie. Unfortunately for me old habits die hard and, once again, I've purchased three copies of Bakahiko's latest work, so of course I know the stupid title of his stupid book.

There's no need to tell Nowaki that though, because the news reporter is already reading out the list of nominees.

"And last week the winner of the prestigious Kikukawa book award went to," she draws out a long, suspenseful pause. "Usami Akihiko and his latest work, Sayonara our Summer Solstice."

* * *

And that's all folks! The end! I must say, the hardest part was choosing the ending, I can't even remember how many times I rewrote this. If anyone's interested in the second version of the final chapter, I could upload it somewhere, though it ends pretty much the same way this one does.

Anyway, a big Thank you to everyone who reviewed and thank you for sticking with this fic until the end.


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